


Changes

by Manhattanite



Series: Matchmaker [4]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-02-18 12:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 127
Words: 259,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13099962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manhattanite/pseuds/Manhattanite
Summary: Total Shoot - with babies!Root and Shaw have welcomed their first child and each are dealing with motherhood in their own way.





	1. What's in a Name?

Root was managing motherhood the way she managed most things in life; she was accepting the newness of her role and going with the flow. The tech genius had juggled multiple projects, and found that skill set came in handy when she was required to dress, feed and play with their adorable baby daughter.

Her partner in life and crime was tackling motherhood the way she tackled life: full force and head on.

The baby was eight weeks old and had already stolen their hearts. By all accounts, the dark haired, light eyed baby was happy and content. The charts on the kitchen refrigerator provided the proof that the two mothers were doing everything right.

“How long at the four o’clock feeding?” Sameen asked as she entered the answer in the app on her phone. “Still no solids, right?” asked the woman who couldn’t imagine how a human could sustain herself on just liquids.

“Not for a while,” Root assured her anxious wife.

“Did you read to her?” Sameen asked, worried that the baby’s intellect was not being stimulated. “Or maybe, you should hold her on your lap while you work on the computer,” she thought out loud.

Their chef and confident, and now, top on the list of preferred _indoor_ baby sitters – but only because her fingerprints came back clean, was watching the two interact. Isabelle knew there was a more pressing issue at hand. She didn’t mean to clear her throat, but she did – and it made Root think.

Sameen was grabbing one of the many books that were piled on the counter top. “When can they use those tiny little hands?” she wondered and looked it up.

“Sweetie?” Root said as she held their bundle of joy in her arms as she slept.

“They are like… _useless_ ,” Shaw said as if this were a surprise. “It’s amazing we have made it this far.”

The baby’s natural helplessness was perhaps the thing that frightened Shaw the most. This would explain why she wanted to rush off that morning to conduct her early morning class on martial arts to anyone who was on the list of potential babysitters.  
Isabelle was ever so grateful to have been excused from that requirement.

“Sweetie?” Root said, as Sameen leaned down and kissed the baby’s forehead. Root, in turn, kissed the top of Sameen’s – and Isabelle all but melted. Shaw was too busy kissing her two favorite girls to notice anything else.

“I’ll see you two at work,” Shaw said in such a high voice that it even surprised her. She coughed and cleared her throat, thankful that Reese and Fusco weren’t there to hear that.

Root gave a knowing look to Isabelle as she gently handed her the baby. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

Root followed Sameen into the entryway that was now adorned with not one, but three, carriages. Sameen had determined which one they used on any given day, depended on wind velocity, debris, and the condition of the streets in the direction they were walking.

“Does that tire look like it’s losing air?” she asked, bending over and pressing the rubber wheel. “Don’t take this one until I check that,” she instructed her wife.

“Sameen?” Root said, because she knew that Shaw knew what that day really was.

“I know, I know,” Shaw said, pushing her hands in her pockets. “I thought – you know – it would happen by now.”

Root smiled sympathetically, because her wife’s idea sounded good in theory. But it hadn’t blossomed in practice and now their fifty nine day old baby – still had no name.

“We only have until tomorrow,” Root gently pointed out because they were nearing the legal limit of sixty days to name a child.

“Okay, then,” Shaw said, “She’s got less than twenty-four hours.”

Sameen wasn’t shifting responsibility to the newborn as much as she was hoping to use this as her unconscious message that life was not fair and you had to be tough to survive it.

Apparently, the ‘new recruit’, as Shaw sometimes referred to her as, wasn’t cooperating.

* * *

For her part, Root had done extensive research on possible names, but each one was met with a lack of confidence.

‘Ruby?’ she suggested once.

“As in ‘Tuesdays’?” Sameen asked horrified that her daughter would have a name like a restaurant.

‘Phoebe?’ came next.

“Is that with a P or an F? See? Too confusing,” her mother responded.

“Moonbeam?” Root even tried.

“No hippie names,” Shaw answered seriously.

“Ann?” she then suggested. “That’s a good solid name,” Root proffered.

Shaw couldn’t argue that, but she looked at the baby. “Are you an Ann?” she asked.

Whether it was the delayed burp from her feeding that caused her to spit up or not, Shaw took it as a sign that she was not pleased with the name.

And so, the hunt continued.

* * *

“Look, Root, if she’s as bright as you are, then just – you know – tell her. I mean, she won’t understand it all yet, but maybe a little pressure will help her do something that will tell us what her name is,” Shaw theorized.

“Most people just pick a name they like,” Root pointed out.

“Yeah, but we’re not most people,” Shaw said –using one of Root’s mantras back on her.

“I’ll tell her,” Root smiled and kissed her anxious wife goodbye.

Satisfied that everything was in order and everyone knew what their jobs were, including the youngest member of her team, Sameen went off to work.

“You’re not worried at all, are you?” Root said to the infant when she returned to her in the kitchen. The baby’s reflex smile was giving way to her real one and she flashed it up at her mom.

“Which finger do you want me to use?” Isabelle asked in all seriousness.

“For what?” Root asked uncertain.

“To put the string on that she’s got Sameen wrapped up in?” Isabelle laughed, enjoying her own joke.

“You do, don’t you?” Root laughed and took her daughter’s tiny hand.

* * *

There wasn’t a person in the early morning group that wasn’t concerned for their friend. They had been informed that after an extensive search, their names were selected to be potential baby sitters. Root let Shaw handle this because truthfully, it kept her busy.

The only one on the list who refused to take the mandatory class was Joss Carter. “Don’t be a damn fool, Shaw. I know what I’m doing. I’m a mother _and_ a cop,” Joss had reminded Shaw. Joss’ name had an asterisk next to it after that. Sameen understood her point, but was concerned, nonetheless.

“Okay people,” Shaw shouted as she walked in and was met with crack of dawn groans. She looked at the only person who was already there and then at her watch. The others had five minutes before mandatory pushups would be issued.

“Could you keep it to a low roar?” Fusco begged.

“You of all people are going to ask me to be quiet?” Shaw asked as if he committed a sin.

“At least let the coffee reach my stomach,” Fusco begged and fell back on the mat.

“Good morning!” shouted an enthusiastic Ayala from the doorway.

“Why are you so cheery?” Fusco asked from his horizontal position.

“I was in the army,” the younger woman shared. “I’m used to _cruel_ hours and _unusual_ drill sergeants.  Or is it the other way around?”

Martine followed the woman and shot Shaw a nod. Now, this woman understood what needed to be done. She took her place and started to do her stretches. Sameen wondered why the entire world didn’t think the way Martine did.

“I brought donuts!” shouted Janine as she walked in looking like something out of a Lululemon active wear catalogue.

“Will you marry me?” Fusco asked because the coffee wasn’t enough to get him going.

“What happened to your diet?” Shaw asked pointedly. She couldn’t have babysitters that couldn’t run.

“Just one, Shaw,” Fusco begged because he was so tired and it was a couple of hours until his _other_ full time job started.

“Just make weigh in,” Shaw warned him.

“Ladies,” Reese said on purpose, because he knew it would bother Lionel.

“I’m not partnering with him,” Lionel said, taking the bag and grabbing the donut.

“Don’t be silly,” Janine said because she was the only one in class who took notes. She flipped a couple of pages in her notebook. “ _Babysitters will be assigned to teams of two_ ,” she read verbatim. “ _Babysitter A will be chosen for their nurturing skills; Babysitter B will be chosen for defensive capabilities and brute strength.”_

Her smile at being able to recite her boss was only slightly smaller than that of the boss she recited.

“Right!” Shaw said, pleased the woman had written that down. “Okay, I’m going to put you in groups of three,” she informed everyone.

Reese was the first one to look around at the motley crew of five people. “We’re short a person,” he pointed out.

And then, Shaw’s secret weapon walked through the door, evening out the number.

“Good morning, Sameen,” the woman greeted the instructor.

“Good morning, Mommy,” Shaw replied back.


	2. New Assignments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you to everyone who returned! I appreciate all the comments and kudos. I hope I can keep it entertaining and accurate.

Fusco wasn’t in the least surprised by his best friend’s zealous response to having the baby. He knew her better than she knew herself somedays. He never knew her better than Root did, though. When Shaw explained to Root that she was going to run drills with anyone who was on the babysitting list, Root was all for it. Fusco had begged Root not to encourage the woman, but that was like asking rain not to water flowers. It wasn’t the natural order of things.

Now he sat at the crack of dawn in a class where the baby’s grandmother just appeared.

“Okay,” Shaw shouted after her mother kissed her hello. “First group; Fusco, Reese, Azar,” Shaw said and pointed to the spots they should take around a prop baby carriage. The doll inside it was wrapped in a blanket.

“That baby is scaring looking,” Fusco whispered to Reese.

“It’s the same look on your face,” Reese informed him.

“Fusco, in this scenario, you’ll be Babysitter A; mom; you’re B and Reese, you’re the deranged stalker trying to get a picture of the baby,” Shaw said and stared at them when they thought maybe she spent too much time thinking of this.

“Do I have a camera?” Reese asked, not entirely seriously.

“Use your phone,” Shaw barked because she got his tone.

“Shaw,” Reese hesitated because in this set up, it was her mother who was supposed to advance.

“Shouldn’t I be over here?” Fusco asked and pointed to where Azar was standing.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Shaw said and he was only mildly annoyed.

“Fine, but Tall, Dark and Gloomy over there is kinda big,” the detective pointed out.

“Which brings me to my next key ingredient,” Shaw said to the entire class. “Let’s go,” she snapped and everyone took their places. Fusco pushed the carriage, rocking it just a bit too much; Azar had her hand on the side of the carriage, and John dutifully took his place behind a stack of boxes.

“GO!” Shaw barked and the act was set in motion.

Reese did his best to appear natural as his large frame jumped out in front of the carriage and held his phone on the doll. His vertical appearance was momentary because the next thing anyone knew, he was flat out on the floor and his phone was missing. Fusco was stunned that anyone –especially a much shorter woman – could take him on. Shaw, he decided, must have helped.

“And _that,_ is called – _motivation_ ,” Shaw beamed at her mother’s skill.

“ _That_ – “ Fusco corrected her, “... is getting your six foot two inch body dumped like a sack of potatoes.”

“Help,” Reese said because he was so stunned by the quickness, he didn’t have time to brace for the complete collapse.

Sameen felt it was the least she could do to help him up, but still couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.

“Motivation,” she repeated as if that answered all of Reese’s questions.

“Got it,” he said, even though it didn’t explain how fast things happened.

“No hard feelings, I hope, John,” Azar smiled and shook his hand.

“Do you play poker?” Fusco asked, suddenly very interested in his best friend’s mother. “We have a game on Tuesday’s…”

“Fusco?” Shaw said and he stopped.

“So, are you saying,” Ayala asked, “..that I could _easily_ take down Martine here because I’m the baby’s Aunt and therefore, would be very _motivated_ to jump on her and hold her in place?” There was no mistaking the younger woman’s lack of focus and her sister was about to make her pay for that.

“Sure,” Shaw said and called the next three to the front of the room. “Now, Janine is going to push the carriage, Martine will be alongside it and you…,” Shaw said, turning to her sister, “…give it your _best_ shot.”

“Oh, I will,” Ayala said because she saw this as a great opportunity to wrestle with her girlfriend. “Don’t go easy on me,” she said to Martine.

There was an inexplicable bond between Martine and Shaw, perhaps because of their similar training. All it took was one look from Sameen and her coworker knew instinctively what to do.

There was _no_ explaining how Janine knew… anything.

“Go,” Shaw commanded and the second staging started.

“What a lovely day,” Janine said, pushing the carriage.

“I’m not feeling well,” Martine acted out just as the over confident Aunt jumped out from behind the boxes.

“Give me the baby!” she said and seemed surprised that Martine wasn’t jumping into action. In fact, the woman stood there smiling. The only one to move was Janine – who rushed at Ayala at full speed. Of course, the Israeli trained woman could easily subdue the woman who was now wrapped around her waist and neck from behind.

“AAAHHHHH,” yelled Janine and the image was that of a fly on tiger, about to get swatted. Unfortunately for Ayala, the fly had a self-defense baton and siren that she released near the supposed assailant’s head. Once Ayala was stunned by the loud sound – as was everyone in the room – she put her baton around Ayala’s neck and pulled, knocking them both to the floor.

“Ho-ly crap!” Martine said because she knew she was supposed to stand down, but had no idea how her babysitting partner was going to respond.

“She’s scary,” Fusco said because he always thought so.

“Okay, okay, _Uncle_ ,” Ayala said because she was admitting defeat.

“More like unprepared Aunt,” Janine verbally spat and stood up, proud of herself. And Shaw was proud, too.

“Good job,” Shaw said and patted her assistant, would-be-killer, on the back.

“Motivation?” Ayala asked as she stood up and shook Janine’s hand.

“Creativity,” the assistant corrected her.

“You have to be ready; at all times,” Shaw said.

* * *

The class ended and Shaw went to see Root to tell her how everyone did.

“Here comes Mommy,” Root cooed to the baby who automatically smiled at the sound. “She’s being very tough,” Root said, wagging the baby’s foot. “Yes she is,” she said, and the baby laughed.

“We are in serious trouble with the lot of them,” Shaw complained as soon as she entered Root’s office. “Hello,” she said to the baby. “Yes, unless Janine or Grandma are watching you, you’re going to have to defend yourself. Oh, and Aunt Martine. She can watch you.”

The infant made gurgle noises and Sameen took that to mean she was totally on board.

“Even John?” Root asked, surprised.

“My mother dropped him. He still looks dazed,” Shaw said smiling. “I can’t wait to tell Carter.”

“Gen is coming over later,” Root said because the now – one of the youngest college freshmen at Columbia University – was arriving after classes.

“I have a questionnaire for her,” Shaw said seriously. Just because someone’s fingerprints came back in good order, didn’t mean they were done.

“You do?” Root asked, intrigued.

“I meant to send it to her so she could work on it,” Shaw said, but she really had been quite busy.

“Your mommy is working very hard on your security,” Root told the baby.

The child was enjoying the lilt in her mother’s voice, but she was experiencing some discomfort.

And she did the thing that threw Sameen into a vortex of insecurity.

She started to cry.

“What? Why is she doing that?” Sameen said, looking at the baby as if the answer was written on her blanket.

“She probably has a bubble; pick her up,” Root encouraged Sameen.

“I’ll pick her up,” she said as if she needed to outline her actions. Root bit her lip as her wife put her arms under the baby’s head and body and picked her up. “There you go,” she said softly to the baby who enjoyed the secure feeling of being in those arms. “Everything is okay,” she assured her daughter who settled down. “Well, _not_ everything,” Sameen continued. “Your uncles both need a great deal of work and your Aunt is practically hopeless. You can’t go out with her until you’re in high school,” Sameen said.

Whether it was the topic or the calmness of her voice, something made the baby calm down and doze off. Sameen could feel the weight of her head on her chest as she slept. Root immediately grabbed her phone and very discretely began filming her wife as she slowly grabbed a blanket and put it over the baby as she lowered herself onto the couch.

“What is that you’re humming?” Root whispered to Sameen because it wasn’t the first time she heard it.

“What?” Shaw asked, unaware that she was doing it. “I don’t know,” she said. “Something my mother used to sing to me, I guess.”

Tears flowed down Root’s face as she watched the love of her life soothe the child that was theirs. She wiped them away, and sat next to Sameen.

“Let’s call her Sam,” Root suggested.

“Sam?” Shaw said as if it was totally outlandish.

“Well, you’re Sameen and I’m Samantha,” Root explained and it didn’t help.

Just then, the baby expelled a long sound of flatulence. “I think we better take that as a no,” Shaw concurred.

Even for the woman whose daily mantra was ‘ _go with the flow_ ’, this delay was making Root nervous. “We have to file for her social security number tomorrow,” she said as if she hadn’t said that before.

“What are you looking at me for?” Shaw said seriously. “Tell her.”

* * *

The light tap on the door told the couple that the baby’s grandmother was there. She immediately went into a long string of Persian terms of endearment as she gently took the baby from her daughter. The proud Aunt followed on her heels.

“I told you to practice in the gym,” Shaw said, getting back to her other role as security overseer.

“Later,” Ayala said dismissing her sister because she wanted to see her niece. “If you don’t name her soon, I’m going to,” she warned.

“How did you name me?” Sameen asked her mother.

“She told me they put names in a hat and the dog got the first name and you got what was left,” Ayala laughed and fell back on the couch.

“Vilda Chaya!” the Iranian mother chastised her youngest in Yiddish. “Stop,” she said in case her first command didn’t register. “Your father named you,” Azar said softly. Sameen noticed her mother’s eyes always lit up whenever she spoke of the man.

“He picked a Persian name?” Shaw asked of her Irish-American father.

“He wanted something that spoke of your two heritages,” Azar explained. “It means Precious.”

“That is so sweet,” Ayala said, teasing her sister. If you add an ‘ _ah_ ’ to the end of your name, it means ‘overweight’, “ the younger woman said correctly.

“Can we _please_ give her back?” Shaw pleaded.

“Mine name means ‘deer’,” the younger sibling announced.

“And this is why you will be an only child,” Shaw said to her daughter.

“You I get,” Ayala said, gently playing with her niece’s hand as she stirred. “But Root? I figured you’d have ten names by now.”

“We’re doing it together,” Root said and slipped her arm through Shaw’s.

“Well, don’t give her a name you can’t get on a coffee mug,” Ayala suggested. “I always feel bad for those people.”

“You mean – like yourself, right?” Shaw pointed out.

“I can in Israel,” her sister pointed out.

“Can you take her now?” Shaw asked her mother of her sibling. “Root and I have work to do.”

“Of course,” Azar said, reluctantly giving her granddaughter back to Root.

There were kisses on the baby’s head before the relatives took their leave. Azar continued her reprimanding in the deadly trifecta of three languages to her younger daughter.

* * *

“Your Aunt is in trouble,” Shaw said softly to the baby.

Root placed the baby down and both mothers began changing her diaper. Once she was all clean and settled, Root answered her fussing by putting her to her breast. “There we go,” Root said soothingly to her daughter.

Sameen watched in awe at how wonderful a sight this was for her; her wife nurturing their baby.

It was possible, Sameen thought, that there was _no_ name that would fit this beautiful little being.


	3. The Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Truly I had no idea where this was going or how she would get her name. This is what happened. All feedback welcomed.

Sameen gazed lovingly at her wife as she nursed their baby. “I don’t think we can name her,” Shaw said as she tried to come up with something.

“But we have to; don’t we?” Root said in a sing song voice to the baby who immediately smiled. “She wants a name,” she shared.

Even though everyone was concerned with the delay, it was the Machine who did the calculations of how to help. She sent Root a text.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Root said after the baby was done.

“Okay,” Shaw said, ready to put all her training into action.

* * *

The mothers took the baby and carriage and drove uptown in the family’s new sedan. Sameen asked a few times where they were going, but Root just kept providing information of where to turn.

“Do you remember when I was pregnant?” Root asked to distract her wife.

“I’ll never forget it,” Shaw said bluntly. “You were glowing, truly. I heard women become like that, but I never believed it.”

“And the hormones?” Root laughed because it was the only time her temperament wasn’t even keeled.

“Oh, my God, Root; you were so funny. I mean, it wasn’t funny because you were all over the place, but you were so cute. _I WANT GUMMY BEARS AND I WANT THEM NOW!!!_ ” Shaw imitated her wife’s craving and urgency.

“That was _once_ ,” Root feigned being bothered by the teasing.

“Yes, but you were in the delivery room,” Shaw added and laughed. “But I got them for you.”

“Did you enjoy our sex life? I mean, I really was… turned on all the time,” Root noted.

“I couldn’t tell the difference,” Shaw responded and pulled her arm away when Root went to hit it. “And don’t say…,” Shaw added lowering her voice until she was mouthing the words; “sex life.” She jerked her head to the backseat where the baby was.

“You don’t want me to say sex life in front of the baby? How will we tell her she got here?” Root wondered.

“Tell her without saying that because she’s not having one until she’s thirty,” Shaw pointed out.

“A sex life?” Root asked amazed.

“Shush.” Shaw replied. “Where are we going?” she asked, changing the subject.

Root laughed, but looked at her phone which clearly showed the map. “Right up here.”

“That church?” Shaw asked of the massive cathedral of St. John the Divine on Amsterdam Avenue in upper Manhattan.

“Yes,” Root said, trying to sound like she had planned this excursion.

“O…kay,” Shaw said and parked the car.

The couple took the carriage and the baby and proceeded toward the church.

* * *

“This way,” Root said because she had peeked at the map the Machine was sending her. They walked to the area of the gardens.

“Do you know there are three peacocks that roam freely around the grounds,” Root shared.

“If they come near us, they’ll be nothing but pigeons, “ Shaw answered, looking around at her surroundings carefully.

“Do you worry about the world we’ve brought her into?” Root wondered out loud as they approached the gardens and walked.

“No,” Sameen answered.

“Why not?” Root asked, because they were fully aware of the balance of good and evil in the world. They both had personal experiences with those forces when they were out of whack.

“Because we’ll protect her,” said the protector.

“And when we’re _not_ here?” Root asked because she was so practical.

“Seriously, Root?” Shaw asked annoyed. “You’re a buzz kill.”

 _‘Sit on the bench,_ ’ Root’s text read.

“Let’s sit over here,” she said to her wife as she wheeled the carriage.

The couple stopped and sat down in front of the largest sculpture in the gardens; _The Peace Fountain_.

Shaw was turning in her seat, looking all around to assess any dangers. Root glanced at her phone.

‘ _Ask Sameen about her father_ ,’ the Machine instructed.

“Is she okay?” Shaw asked and crouched down in front of the carriage to wipe a dribble.

“What would your father have been like with her?” Root tailored the question.

“My father?” Shaw asked.

“Yes,” Root said, hoping it was a good question.

Shaw looked up at the sky for a second and came back. “He’d adore her. I mean, he adored me, so I’m sure he would have really enjoyed her.”

‘ _What was his name_?’ the Machine texted.

“Wasn’t his name John?” Root asked nonchalantly.

Sameen was affirming that his name was John, when the baby started to squirm in her seat. “He went by _Jack_ ,” she said of his nickname. “What is she doing?” she asked Root who seemed to always know what the baby wanted.

“She wants you to hold her,” Root answered as the squirming continued.

“I just put her in there,” Shaw pointed out, but the baby apparently wanted out. “Don’t you want to stay in there?” Shaw asked, but the determined scream told her the answer. “Okay, okay,” her mother relented, unlocking the straps that held her in place.

“What about Jackie?” Root asked, wondering if the Machine wasn’t leading them down the path to naming the baby.

“What?” Shaw asked, trying to calm the baby who seemed irritated.

“Jackie? After your father?” Root hypothesized.

The baby now howled her frustration; confusing her mother who held her. Sameen was so determined to take the infant’s input on her own name, that she took any cry as a nugatory response. “She hates it,” Sameen assessed.

“Well, I’m at a loss,” Root admitted because she didn’t understand what they were doing there.

In an effort to soothe her, Sameen bounced the baby in her arms as she walked around the large sculpture. The cries increased and so did Shaw’s anxiety. She walked around the statue as Root followed. As soon as they were in front of the sculpture, the baby looked up and stopped crying.

The threesome stood in silence as Root and Shaw traded glances; wondering what was holding the baby’s interest.

The forty foot statue was a depiction of the very thing the mothers had experienced in the last year or so – the conflict between good and evil. The fountain’s base took its inspiration from the double helix of DNA; the sun and the moon gaze at one another; the lion lying down with the lamb. The entire structure was embellished with twelve giraffes; believed to be the most peaceful of the animal kingdom.

“She likes giraffes,” Root deduced because the baby was staring.

But Shaw was holding her and could see she was looking up… past the animals.

Twelve years of Catholic school helped Sameen recognize who was represented in the apex of the structure. “That’s Saint Michael,” she said softly as she stepped back to get a better view.

“The archangel?” Root asked, familiar with the biblical stories about the defender of God’s army.

“He is using his sword to defeat evil,” Shaw said of the depiction told in the sculpture. “He’s an angel in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam,” Shaw said and felt as if she were peeling away the reason they were there.

“She’s staring at him,” Root said and the baby’s gaze was fixed on the form. “His name means – “ _Who is like God”_ – “ Root read from her phone.

“That’s… a lot for a baby,” Shaw said quietly.

“Michelle? Michaela?” Root asked out loud and the baby cried.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw assured her. “No,” she said to Root.

The baby broke her stare to look at her mothers. Sameen looked at Root because she wanted to make sure they were thinking the same thing. Root nodded and Sameen looked back at their daughter.

“Michael Shaw-Groves,” Sameen uttered, but truly it was a question.

The baby’s chubby cheeks broke out into a bright and beautiful smile.

Whether she found her forename in a namesake that would define her role in life as an agent of good, or whether she simply liked the way the sunshine reflected on the metal - one thing was for sure -

Root and Shaw’s first born had found her name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don't think Root would have been in the front seat, but rather in the back with the baby. Excuse that deviation.


	4. From the Frying Pan - Into the Social Security Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: That title has more to do with what I did with the name - than anything else. Oh, I truly appreciate ALL your comments. I know it's a 'different' name perhaps than most of you were thinking and I can totally understand that. There are MANY hurdles to writing SHOOT with children - this is just ONE of them. I fear I may have pushed even those of you who liked 'Michael' to the edge with this - but remember - we had the advantage of adorable AMY and SARAH to make us love their canon names.

Sameen truly believed the infant had just chosen her name and the look of satisfaction on her own face was profound. Root believed the Machine had led them there based on some very complicated calculations and wondered how much they were reading into the baby’s smile. While Sameen was happy to check that off her to do list, Root was contemplating possible consequences.

“Sweetie?” Root said as they walked around the gardens, the baby secured in the carriage.

Shaw stopped immediately because she was an expert at picking up the tone of the various ways Root uttered that term of endearment. This tone said – ‘ _I’m about to burst your bubble_ ’.

“No, Root,” Shaw pleaded. “Look at how happy she is. Michael is a badass name and that’s what we want for her.”

That part made perfect sense, even to Root.

“Can I just ask…?” Root said and Shaw’s shoulders fell, but she said yes. “Do you think anyone will think we named her after…. anyone?”

“No!” came the definitive answer. She wasn’t even on the same page as her wife; so she simply didn’t think of it.

“Like Cole?” Root added and Sameen genuinely looked confused.

“Cole?” she asked as if Root had just said Fusco. “What the hell does he have to do with this?”

“His name?” Root said gently, the way you do when you’re waiting for the light to go on over your wife’s head.

“His name is …,” Shaw started to fill in the blank with his surname when his first name dawned on her. “That’s… no! Totally different!” And she meant it.

“Sweetie, I am not sure I care… _yet_ ,” Root said, sitting down on a bench and pulling Shaw to sit with her because this could take some time, “… You know I have jealous feelings sometimes because of your friendship with him. But that aside, suppose people think we named her after a … donor?”

“A donor? Cole? Jesus, Root – I would have asked Fusco or Reese before Cole,” she shared and wished those words had never escaped her mouth. “I mean – Cole is too unstable.”

“You understand my concern?” Root cut to the chase, ignoring how quickly that donor list came to her wife.

“I’m still surprised you have a concern,” Shaw admitted truthfully. “You of all people never care what anyone thinks, Root.” It was one thing, on a list of many that Shaw admired about her wife.

“True, but now we’re talking about the two girls in my life and I’m very protective of them,” Root admitted.

In spite of Sameen’s innate need to be the _protector_ and not the _protected_ , she liked this desire in Root. “Look, Root,” Shaw said, taking her hands and sliding around on the bench to look at her. “We can’t back away from her name. If someone misconstrues it; we’ll set them straight.”

Root’s adored the way Sameen saw the world – a take-charge attitude to any issue they might face. It was so easy for Root to lose herself in the assuredness that was Sameen.

“What’s Cole’s middle name?” Root asked because her brain was still working, even though her heart was on Team Shaw.

“ _Bartholomew_ ?” Shaw recalled correctly because she tortured him about it one time.

“I want a different middle name,” Root said definitely.

Shaw wanted to be done with this and so she promised they’d find an appropriate middle name. Satisfied, Root decided they could resume their walk.

* * *

An hour later, with the baby secured in the back seat with Root, Sameen was driving them home.

“Let’s take her now,” Root suggested.

“Home?” Shaw asked.

“To get her social security card,” Root all but squealed.

“You know they don’t give them out at Tiffany’s, right?” Shaw teased because no one got excited about going to a government agency.

“Very funny,” Root scoffed from the back seat. “Your mommy is very silly,” she said to the baby. “It won’t be crowded,” Root assured her wife because the Machine had calculated which office had the shortest line.

“Okay,” Shaw said and asked Root if she had all the necessary documents.

“Right here,” Root said because she decided to carry them when they were down to the wire.

* * *

If the baby thought getting the same name as an archangel was badass, she was about to witness her mother in the bureaucratic hell - that was responsible for issuing the numbers.

Root was genuinely surprised that the woman at the desk wasn’t impressed that they were there to designate the most beautiful baby with her name. “Fill this out,” she said, shoving the form through the slot. The agent worker’s apathy was palpable and Sameen grabbed the form and stared at her hard.

“I’m not sure coming here was a good idea,” Sameen said to Root as they took a seat.

The two started to complete the form; smiling and nudging each other when it came to list the baby’s parents’ names.

“We’re amazing,” Shaw said sincerely. “We made… a whole person.”

“That we did,” Root smiled and it was the kind of grin that made her wife melt.

“I want her to smile with her eyes the way you do,” Sameen declared, filling out the one page form.

“I don’t know if we get to choose that,” Root teased. “In fact, after we name her, our choices might become limited.” She was only half kidding.

“No,” Shaw answered. “We are going to decide what’s best for her, right?” she said, looking down at her daughter.

* * *

The late hour didn’t improve the mood of the clerk who shouted NEXT and gave the couple a blank stare when they approached. This indifference was not going over well with Sameen as she shoved the completed paper over with the supporting documents.

Root was beaming and taking a picture to remember their first official family event involving the government. “Watch Mommy,” she said to the baby, whose smile should have melted the coldest of people. Root was also taking pride in the fact that everything was in order. Until – the clerk asked –

“So, no middle name?”

“What?” Shaw asked, forgetting all about that.

“No middle name?” the woman uttered slowly, letting out a deep sigh that was emblematic of her dislike of the job.

“No, she needs one!” Root said quickly.

“Right,” Shaw said, turning to the woman and smiling. “Could you give us ….?”

“I leave in ten minutes,” the woman answered curtly.

Shaw was too fast and before Root could grab her, her five-foot three frame was up close to the woman’s face. “I have a license to carry a concealed weapon!” Shaw shared.

The woman seemed undeterred. “You know Michael is usually a boy’s name?” she boldly asked.

“You know it’s a Glock?” Shaw shot back.

“SECURITY!” the clerk yelled.

“That won’t be necessary,” Root flashed her most trust-worthy smile as she peeled Sameen back down to a standing position. “We will be right back.”

Root kept smiling as if nothing was odd about her wife threatening a civil servant. She took Sameen by the arm and pushed the carriage with the baby who was cooing and smiling. It was almost as if she enjoyed seeing her mother put people in their places.

“Let’s sit here and decide,” Root said and took Sameen’s hand in case it was going to her weapon. “Middle name,” Root said, tapping the pen to her chin and looking at her daughter.

“Artan,” Sameen said, and almost looked as surprised as Root.

“Excuse me?” Root asked, mindful of the dwindling minutes.

“That song that my mother sang to me; the one I was humming for the baby. It’s a lullaby about someone named – Artan – it’s Irish,” her wife said as if she were reading it from some page in her head. There was no explaining how that tidbit had just occurred to Sameen.

“ _Michael… Artan,_ ” Root said and – truth be told – it didn’t flow off her lips. “Michael Ar-tan,” she said, the last syllable rhyming with ‘don’.

“It’s…a mouthful, right?” Sameen said, but in a really happy tone.

“It…is,” Root said, trying it again. She looked at the baby whose eyes were glued to watching Sameen’s face. “I think she likes it.”

“ _Michael Artan Shaw-Groves_ ,” Shaw said, thinking it was a badass name.

Root watched as her daughter and wife exchanged gazes and smiles. Whatever the baby was taking in, she seemed totally infatuated with what Sameen was saying.

“Okay?” Shaw asked Root, who smiled her agreement.

“I think it’s a beautiful name,” Root said because it had such meaning.

Shaw took the paper, wrote in the middle name, and the threesome returned to the window.

“Oh, you made it,” the lackluster remark greeted them.

“We’re all set this time,” Root smiled pleasantly because her wife was one hair widths away from losing it.

“Michael…,” the woman typed into the computer. “Artan… Shaw-Groves. Well, that’s the first time I’ve seen that name,” the hardened clerk admitted.

Shaw turned to her daughter who was bouncing on her mother’s hip. “It means – _Little Bear_.”

Hearing the translation made Root smile. “Come on, Sweetie; let’s take Michael home,” she said when the woman pronounced them done.

* * *

The couple returned to the comfort of their home; greeted by the slow walking pets who sat until they were encouraged to come. Shaw finally told them they could greet them.

“You’re going to love her name,” Shaw said to Bear who was so happy not to be constrained that he was leaping up at her.

‘ _When can we play with her_?’ Shadow was asking Bear.

‘ _Not for a while_ ,’ Bear reminded her. ‘ _Two-leggeds are truly weak when they’re born. Adorable_ ,’ he howled, ‘… _but pathetically weak_.’

“Her name is Michael Artan,” Shaw said to Bear who stared for a long time at her. “It means – “ _Little Bear_ ”,” she explained.

A genuine look of surprise came over the canine. He was beyond barks; he was so touched. He started crying and howling and running in between Shaw’s legs; trying to express how happy he was.

“Okay, okay, but she’s not – you know – a card carrying member of your crew there,” Shaw felt it necessary to point out. “No picking her up by the neck or taking her for walks.”

“You know if we ever put one of those walking harnesses on her, you’re going to confuse the heck out of him,” Root whispered at the similarity of the child and canine leashes.

“No,” Shaw said, not yet up to when the baby would walk. “We’re never doing that.”

‘ _Wait until she runs away_ ,’ Bear said to Shadow. ‘ _Then, they’ll change their tune_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Kudos to my friend QuickLookBusy for her suggestion of the baby's middle name. Pure genius as it translates to - "Little Bear" - really.


	5. A Careful Eye

There was a very large betting pool being run at work about the naming of the baby, and it extended to the local police station, as well. Most of the participants gave their answers a great deal of thought, but none more than Fusco.

“I know it won’t be traditional, so I’m going with a gender neutral name,” Joss said as she wrote her selection on a ticket.

“A what?” asked the man who sat across from her who was running the pool.

“You know; a name that could be a boy’s or a girl’s,” Joss explained.

“Like yours?” Lionel asked, his eyebrow arched because he hadn’t thought of that strategy.

“Mine means ‘ _One of the Goths_ ’,” Joss said because she had done extensive research on baby’s names when Taylor was born.

“I never took you for that black nail polish and dark clothing crowd,” Fusco said.

“No, not the…never mind,” his partner declared. “We should be hearing soon.”

“Yeah, I’m headed over there now. I’m thinking that Shaw will assume that we’ll assume she’ll go overboard on a name and then, based on that assumption, she’ll do the opposite,” he thought through.

“Did you ever consider they don’t _care_ what any of us thinks?” Joss put it bluntly.

“No, Shaw will expect that we’ll expect the name to be unconventional and will backtrack and name the baby something very traditional!” he said, writing down his name. “I figured her out. It’s so easy when you really know a person.”

“Aha,” Joss said suspiciously.

Fusco gathered all the slips of paper and put them in an envelope. “I’ll be back with my winnings and maybe I’ll treat you to a cup of coffee,” he said confidently.

“That’ll be a first,” Joss teased him.

“I buy you coffee all the time,” he protested.

“I meant you winning,” she corrected him.

* * *

Like two heads of state meeting secretly; Janine was ready with the BEAR staff’s picks when Lionel arrived at corporate headquarters.

“You got yours?” he asked, holding onto his slips of paper.

“Yes. You got yours?” Janine parroted back.

Then, they both emptied the pieces of paper onto her desk so she could tabulate the guesses. Acting very much like the CIA, the two friends opened all the names and listed them.

“Who the hell guessed ‘ _Serenity_ ’?” Fusco bellowed.

“Someone who does not know Shaw,” Janine answered quickly.

“I went more traditional because I knew Shaw would know that we all think she’s not traditional, so I used reversed logic and came up with this,” Fusco said proudly, whipping open his piece of paper.

“ _Emily_?” Janine questioned.

“Hey, I was originally going with _Rambo_ , so this is an improvement,” Fusco explained.

Thirty minutes later, or in _Fusco-time_ – three donuts and a cup of coffee later, Janine was done. The same pregnancy that caused Root to gain an appropriate amount of weight, set Fusco back twenty pounds. He was stress eating practically up to the delivery.

“Now, we just need to know what the answer really is,” the woman said and wondered where her boss was.

* * *

Her boss – having been defeated in determining when Root should return to work – was in the lobby warning people to stand away from the carriage.

“Yes, she’s unfreaking adorable, but you need to look from back there,” Sameen said sternly and pointed to where the perimeter was.

Root bit her lip to repress the smile just the slightest because she thought her wife was being _unfreaking_ adorable, too.

Sameen asked Root several times if she needed her to go with them to her office, but Root suggested she was fine and that Sameen probably had people waiting for her.

“You have the pediatrician’s number on speed dial, right?” Sameen asked, before letting the door close on the elevator.

“Yes,” Root assured her wife.

“The right one, right?” Shaw asked because the first two suggested to Root that everyone would be more comfortable ‘ _somewhere_ ’ else. Both made the suggestion after being threatened by one of the mothers.

“Yes, Doctor Lennon,” Root said.

“Sounds like a Communist. Did we do a background check?” Shaw wondered out loud.

“Totally different spelling, Sweetie,” Root all but giggled.

“I’ll be up soon,” Shaw shouted as the door closed.

The baby jumped when she heard the boom of her mother’s voice. “It’s okay,” Root assured her in a much quieter tone. “That’s mommy being protective. And a little obsessive. But mostly protective,” she smiled to her daughter.

* * *

The welcome wagon at Root’s office included Harold and Grace, with a very anxious Genrika. “Oh, we thought you’d never get here,” the college freshman said. Root couldn’t help but notice the similarity between Sameen’s anxiety and the youth’s.

“I brought extra blankets,” Gen assured Root when she handed the baby to Grace.

“Do we have a name yet?” Harold asked as he and his wife played with her.

“ _Michael_ ,” Root said, thinking one name at a time for this crowd was advisable.

“ _Michael_ ,” Harold repeated, thinking it over.

“I LOVE IT!” Gen declared because she was certain it would be unusual. “It’s badass!” she confirmed.

“That’s what Sameen said,” Root couldn’t help but say.

“ _Michael_ ,” Grace uttered, finding that the name fit somehow. “It’s a beautiful name,” she said, knowing no one in that room won the pool.

While Root was announcing the baby’s moniker to her family, Shaw was ready to shout it from the rooftops.

* * *

“Shaw!” Janine shouted first and rushed to her boss, holding her by the arms to look her up and down. The woman acted like she hadn’t seen her in the last twenty four hours, but she had. In fact, since the baby was born, Janine had visited every day. She respected the couple’s wishes not to disturb the baby, but they forgot to specify this included not coming over just to see Shaw.

_“I just need to make sure you’re okay,” Janine said  each day she arrived, making the woman who prided herself on taking care of everything uncomfortable._

_“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Shaw had asked._

_“Becoming a parent is a HUGE responsibility,” the woman said, unknowingly fanning the flames of Shaw’s anxiety._

Now, Sameen decided, perhaps she needed the counsel of her closest friends, for the baby’s sake.

* * *

“Okay, before you tell us,” Fusco said, handing her a cup of coffee and a bag of mini donuts that she immediately inspected to see how many he ate, “…there are two pools. First name and second name pools. Okay, go,” he said, sitting down and waiting to hear.

“WAIT!” came the shout from down the hallway and it was Sameen’s sister. The younger sibling ran down the hallway, bursting into the small space that was her sister’s office. “We want to hear, too.”

Sameen hadn’t given too much thought about the protocol of sharing the baby’s name. When her mother appeared behind her sister, it dawned on her that perhaps she should have called them first.

As if reading her daughter’s concern on her face, Azar assured Sameen that having them all there together would only add to the joy of hearing the name.

“First, I should tell you,” Sameen said as people gathered outside her cubicle space and inside Janine’s office, “… that she picked this name herself.”

“Yeah, right,” Ayala said because she thought it was going to be a girly name that Root picked and this was her sister’s way of backing off from it.

“Don’t make me hurt you before my coffee,” Shaw issued her warning.

“Okay, let’s see who won,” Fusco said, getting ready to collect his winnings.

“Her name is…,” Shaw said, getting excited about the announcement, “… _Michael Artan_.”

“It’s perfect!” Janine shouted and hugged Sameen.

“It suits her!” Azar said and hugged her daughter next.

“We’re not hugging one at a time are we?” Sameen worried out loud, but truly had no say in the matter.

“Perfect!” Martine said smiling. “Really good,” and fist bumped her friend.

Sameen expected that Martine would totally get it.

“ _Michael_?” Fusco said, endangering his own life by hesitating. He liked the name, but was sorely disappointed he had misread his friend. He immediately noticed his friend’s eyes narrowing on him. “I love it,” he said, almost convincingly. “I just thought you were going to go more conventional, because you expected us to think you were going to be unconventional, but you went with unconventional,” he blathered on.

“It’s great,” her sister echoed. “And, you can get her a mug, too.”

The people all congratulated the new mother on the name and Sameen tolerated the handshakes and hugs.

“Who won?” someone shouted out about the pool.

“Well, you didn’t name her _Zoe_ or _Morgan_ and I really thought I had my bases covered with those two,” Zoe said and hugged Sameen.

“Those were on the list,” Shaw said smiling.

“I knew it,” Zoe said because she liked both her names.

“Who won?” someone demanded again and Janine went to look at the list.

“One person,” she called out because of all the entries, only one person had chosen Michael.

“Really?” Shaw said, surprised that anyone guessed that.

“ _Anonymous_ ,” Janine confirmed and people murmured who could have guessed it.

“We’ll know when they collect the winnings,” Janine announced, because there were two parts to every entry. Number 1379 was the winner.

Sameen was especially curious about the person and told Janine she wanted to know who it was when they came forward.

* * *

When the celebration was over, Fusco called his partner to tell her she lost.

“I thought _Alex_ was a good choice,” Reese said of his girlfriend’s pick.

“Well, she won’t be taking you to dinner, Captain America,” Fusco teased him.

“You can take me to breakfast then,” John decided and pulled his friend toward the employee cafeteria.

“Do you people have any idea what a cop makes?” Fusco asked.

“A lot of noise?” Reese retorted.

“I’m telling your girlfriend about that,” Fusco warned him.

“She’s a detective,” Reese said, holding the door for Lionel.

* * *

Back in her office, Sameen looked at her watch. It had been forty-five minutes since she arrived and she jumped up to go check on her family.

“This is the pediatrician’s name,” she said to Janine on the way out. “Get Fusco to run a background check and ask…,” she was instructing when Janine handed her a folder with several pages in it.

“How did you?” Shaw asked as she looked through the doctor’s entire background check on paper.

“It was on my printer this morning when I came in,” Janine said, and suggested Martine must have done it.

Except, of course, Martine had no idea who the latest pediatrician was.


	6. A New Perspective

Now that she was given the task of finding out who wrote the winning name, Janine set out to employ all means possible.

“I don’t know if we can actually _dust_ for fingerprints…,” Martine said, thinking this was slightly overboard. “Why not just wait until they produce their ticket and collect their winnings?”

“Maybe,” said the assistant who didn’t want to disappoint Sameen. “What about DNA?”

* * *

While her assistant was playing _Sherlock_ , Shaw was upstairs with her wife and baby. “Did Mommy bore you with all this technical talk?” Sameen teased as she played with the baby.

Root smiled because there was no mistaking how the little girl’s face lit up when she saw her mother.

“I’m ready!” called Genrika as she burst through the door. “Oh, my God, look at how she looks at you!” Everyone could see it.

“Did you fill out that questionnaire I sent you?” Shaw asked, because it was business first; compliments second.

“Yes, Sir!” Gen said and Root swore she almost saluted.

Root watched as her wife eyed the youth; a dubious expression on her face.

“You’re walking down the street with the baby in the carriage; someone of questionable status approaches, asking for money,” Shaw quizzed and stared, waiting for the answer.

“I… remove the baby from the carriage,” Gen started and took the baby from Root to demonstrate. Sameen’s hard look started to soften, “…I take her in my arms like so,” she continued and Shaw nodded because she was on the right track; “…then I take the money out of my pocket and give it to the person.”

“What? No!” Shaw yelled. “Are you crazy? You run. You run like the wind and get the hell out of any part of Manhattan where people will approach you.”

“Sameen!” Root chastised her wife because Gen had given the right answer.

“What?” Shaw said, losing all sense and sensibility.

“We want to teach her kindness and caring,” Gen bolstered her argument.

"Kindness and caring?" Sameen asked as if she never heard the words.

“I think it was a perfectly acceptable answer,” Root agreed.

Shaw’s head snapped back and forth because it was two against one. And – she agreed in theory because she was always the one who would stop and give someone money. But things were different now.

“You…,” Shaw threatened, but was unsure what the consequence was, “… are on restricted walking duties.”

“What does that even mean?” both Gen and Root asked, much to Shaw’s chagrin because she didn’t know herself.

“You…have to… take Bear with you,” she said, knowing Bear deterred approaching strangers.

“Did anyone win the pool?” Gen asked, ignoring her friend because she could tell she was still figuring out this parenting gig.

“One person,” Shaw said, unhappy with the previous discourse.

“Oh, wow!” Root said, surprised. “Who was it?”

“Both names?” Gen asked suspiciously.

“No,” Shaw replied. “No one could guess her middle name, but apparently, one person said _Michael_.”

“Not…?” Gen asked, and jerked her head in the direction of the desktop on Root’s desk.

“No!” Shaw said.

Gen shrugged her shoulders thinking the Machine might have had an advantage. “So, who could have guessed it?”

“Why are you _here_?” Shaw asked, because the kid was asking too many questions.

“I’m babysitting,” Gen said happily.

“No, you’re not,” Shaw countered and Root wished she had had some time to update her wife before Gen arrived.

“I passed my CPR class; got my certification in baby care; have all the emergency numbers on my phone; completed your questionnaire and am ready,” Gen presented.

“Did you know about this?” Shaw asked the woman who was always on her side.

“Actually, Sweetie, I asked Gen,” Root said slowly – the way you do when you really want your spouse to slow down and take in what you’re saying.

“Why would you do that?” Shaw asked perplexed.

“I thought if Gen watched the baby for an hour or so, we could go out and have dinner somewhere,” Root said.

“Like the kitchen?” Shaw asked with the obvious solution.

Root’s head tilted to the side as she smiled at Shaw’s attempt to resist. “I was thinking a little farther, but close,” she explained because she had to.

Now, Shaw’s head scrambled to list the thousand reasons why this was not a good idea. She came up with one. “What about…” she said, her hands waving in front of Root’s chest.

“Breastfeeding?” Root asked and made her wife so weak, she fell back on the couch.

“She’ll express the milk before you go in case I need it,” Gen said because she was up on all of this.

 _Nothing_ in that sentence sat well with Sameen. She was about to balk about the whole idea when she looked up at Root and saw the expression. It wasn’t just her face that spoke volumes, but her light brown eyes that seemed to be waiting for Sameen to agree.

It finally dawned on Sameen that Root needed some Shaw-time.

“Okay,” Shaw said and Root’s face immediately burst into a smile because she really wanted Sameen to approve. Then, adding icing to the cake, she said, “It will be nice to get out for a little while.”

Root was thrilled that everyone was on board. She was confident Gen would do very well, especially since she knew her wife would call everyone they knew to be on alert.

“No letting her stay up past her bedtime teaching her binary code or whatever you nerds do,” Shaw said teasingly.

“Look who’s talking,” Gen said, dishing it back. “You do nerd, too, Shaw. We know that.”

Sameen stared at the youth and then back at the woman who handpicked her as a babysitter. “She’s going to lose all her manners if she spends too much time with this one.”

“Let’s all go home and we’ll get them settled before we go out,” Root suggested.

* * *

Thirty minutes and several streams of instructions later, Gen stood there holding Michael as the couple approached the elevator to leave.

“You have…?” Shaw asked and Gen assured she did.

“You know where…?” Shaw asked and Gen repeated the name of the restaurant a couple of blocks away.

Sameen finally relinquished and kissed the baby one more time. “We’re not far away,” she assured her. The baby smiled and gurgled.

“Bye honey,” Root said, kissing her, too and pulling Sameen to get on the elevator.

“We have drones on the roof if you need them,” Shaw shouted as the door closed.

* * *

Root might have needed a couple of hours off to relax, but more than anything, she needed Sameen to unwind. All of her wife’s wonderful strengths – her ability to size up a situation; her tenacity to set things straight; her qualifications to run missions; and her resolve to protect, were all coming to a head – with an intensity that even Root had not seen before.

“We’re going to be really good at this,” Root said as the waiter poured water into their glasses and Shaw looked at her phone.

“I told Fusco he should probably circle the block before heading home,” Shaw said, not listening.

“Sweetie?” Root said, and reached over and pushed Sameen’s phone down on the table. “We’re going to be good at this.” The woman, who grew up without any good role models after her mother died, instinctively concluded that she and Sameen would figure out the best for their daughter.

That belief was going to come up against Shaw’s stubbornness to ever admit defeat.

“Maybe you are, Root, but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” Shaw leaned over and whispered as if someone was going to find her out.

“They don’t take them back, Sameen,” Root assured her.

“They should!” Shaw declared, looking around. “They should check in on the family a couple of weeks later and if someone doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing; they should give them to someone else.”

Root’s eyebrows rose and she pulled back in her chair - to give her wife a little room to hear how that all sounded.

It took a minute, but Sameen finally heard it.

“I don’t know what I’m saying, Root,” Shaw lamented.

“They don’t give you manuals,” Root reminded her that every new parent was in the same boat.

“They should, Root! They really should! Every recruit should have one,” Shaw groaned. “So much to get right.”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to get it perfect. We just have to try our best and we’re going to be okay,” Root assured her. “We just have to be… enough.”

No one got through to Shaw the way Root did. It wasn’t just the calmness of her words; it was how easy it was for Sameen to see how much Root believed what she said.

“Enough?” Shaw repeated.

“Yes,” Root said gently.

“Really?” Shaw asked. That was a measure that went against everything she ever believed.

“Really,” Root smiled across the small table.

“You’ll tell me if I do something that’s going to screw her up, right?” Shaw asked and Root would have laughed except she knew how serious her wife was.

“Absolutely,” Root answered.

Shaw finally took a deep breath and looked at the menu; as if she were going to order anything other than steak. “I can’t relax,” she admitted.

Without picking her head up and without skipping a beat, Root assured Sameen she could think of _several_ things that would induce relaxation after dinner.

“Really?” Shaw asked for the second time that night.

“Absolutely,” Root smiled back.

Steaks were consumed and dessert was passed over.

Both women were more than a little anxious to get back home… to relax.

* * *

For no apparent reason at all, Zoe Morgan stopped by BEAR after hours. She told the Security desk she was there to see Shaw, but they said she’d left. When she saw Janine coming out of the elevator, she called over to her.

“Don’t tell me they’re working you late?” she asked the devotee.

“Shaw asked me to find out who guessed the baby’s name,” Janine explained, feeling discouraged that she didn’t find out.

“Let me guess,” Zoe said because she knew how obsessed her friend was with Shaw’s approval, “… you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“No! Martine said there were too many fingerprint smudges and any DNA would be contaminated,” Janine said slowly.

“Fingerprints and DNA?” Zoe laughed. “Why don’t you and I go to dinner and do this old school.”

Janine looked up at her. “Old school?” she asked quizzically.

Zoe put her arm around the younger woman and pulled her to walk. “So _much_ to learn; so _little_ time,” the Fixer lamented as they left the building.


	7. It's Always the Quiet Ones

One of the reasons – and there were _many_ – that Sameen loved her friends, was that they knew what she needed without her having to spell it out. In spite of possessing a wonderful vocabulary; Sameen loved not having to spell things out. So, it was no surprise to her that she saw Fusco down the block as she and Root made their way back home. He gave her a smile and the slightest salute which meant he had been near the building since she left.

It had only been a little over an hour, but then, Shaw was _quite_ motivated to get home.

“How’d you do, Kid?” she asked Genrika when they returned to find the youth reading her text book; the baby sound asleep in her bassinet; the canines reclined nearby.

“She took all four ounces and burped twice,” Gen reported in a low whisper. “She was really good.”

“Now, let’s call it four hours,” Root said, rounding it up and starting from when Shaw began to torture her in the office. She handed the girl several ten dollar bills.

“That’s too much!” Gen protested because she had wanted to do it for free, but Root wouldn’t hear of it.

“You won’t win,” Shaw said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Thanks, Root,” Gen said and hugged the woman. “I guess I could use it to buy an outfit for the freshman dance,” she said… on purpose.

One could hear the screech of Sameen’s brain brakes as she took that in.

“What? You’re not going to that. They’re freshmen – as in _older_ than you. No! Root,” Shaw said, her hands extended between her wife and the teenager she was attempting to control.

“When is it?” Root asked and that was the wrong thing to say.

“What does it matter _when_? She’s _not_ going,” Shaw pointed out.

Root looked over at Genrika sympathetically. “You might be able to go if you brought the _guard_ dog,” she said, hypothetically. Bear groaned softly that he detested loud music.

“They won’t let dogs in,” Gen said as if she were truly disappointed.

“I wasn’t talking about… Bear,” Root whispered, not to insult the dog who thought she meant him. Her eyes cast sideways to indicate just who she was referring to.

“Oh, you mean _chaperone_ ,” Gen said, playing along.

“What? No! I’m not chaperoning, because you’re not going,” Shaw declared.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Gen said – having for the first time in her life a reason to want to go to a dance. “I’ll let you know the details,” she said as she went to the elevator where Grace was waiting for her. The older woman waved in at the couple as they took their leave.

* * *

“She’s _not_ going,” Shaw repeated to Root.

“I’m not sure we have a say,” Root said, much to Shaw’s dislike.

“Have they adopted her yet? Because Harold should put his foot down,” Shaw mumbled.

“Take it from someone who knows; Harold never puts his foot down. And I think the adoption process to moving along,” Root said.

“We should adopt her,” Shaw said, not giving that much thought.

“What?” Root asked, surprised at the suggestion.

“We should adopt her. She needs…,” and Sameen tried to explain what she was thinking by moving her hands all around.

“ _What is a strong hand_?” Root laughed as she tried to play the Shaw category of Jeopardy.

“I don’t know,” Shaw admitted. “Something to control… that,” she said, pointing to the elevator as if Gen were still there. “She’s very bright; maybe too bright for Harold.”

“But not us?” Root couldn’t help but ask as she pulled her wife to the couch.

“Seriously, Root? No,” Shaw felt it her duty to answer.

* * *

“Look at her,” Root said, gazing down at their sleeping daughter. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Of course she is,” Shaw agreed. “She looks like you.”

Root pulled Sameen in to her arms, kissing her gently and then taking her jaw in her hands to pull her in closer. “I love you, Sameen Shaw. But you’re tense.”

“But?” Shaw inquired.

“I can start there,” Root teased, cupping her wife’s incredibly firm buttocks in her hands. “I need to get back in shape,” she lamented.

“I love the shape you’re in,” Sameen countered because there was a soft fullness to Root’s body now. “You’re perfect,” she said as Root pulled her down on her, falling back on the couch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Shaw worried as her hard body covered Root’s.

“Sameen, I gave birth; I didn’t get hurt in the process,” Root assured her and pulled her to stay where she was.

“You kinda screamed,” Shaw said because she’d never forget seeing Root like that.

“I didn’t say it didn’t hurt,” Root smiled. “You’ll see when it’s your turn,” she proposed.

“Right,” Shaw said, not wanting to think about that just yet.

“Now, let’s see what we can do to relax those tense muscles,” Root got back on track and began rubbing Shaw’s back. Her touch was like magic; melting tightness wherever her hands went.

“That feels really good,” Sameen said as muscles uncoiled and calmed down.

The touching led to _more_ kissing; and that led to _more_ touching and ripping of clothes off bodies; which led to _more_ caressing. “I don’t want to wake heeerrrrrr,” Shaw tried to say, but her body was tensing into a splendid peak that begged for release.

Root knew how to suppress her wife’s screams and she covered her mouth with hers as the explosion of sheer pleasure emitted from the back of her Shaw’s throat. Shaw’s rock solid body shuddered as waves spread throughout, under the adept ministrations of her wife. Root loved placing her hand on Shaw’s breast and feeling the rapid heartbeat that she just induced.

“Now, that’s much better,” she decided as Shaw pulled her into her on the couch.

As Sameen was blissfully drifting off to sleep with Root securely in her arms, her assistant was being taught a few things.

* * *

In a restaurant not far from where Root and Shaw had dined, Zoe Morgan was imparting some of her years of experience on the woman she believed had great potential.

“DNA and fingerprints take away the challenge,” she said, sipping her wide rimmed glass martini and smiling.

“Well, I’m exhausted from the challenge,” the neophyte admitted as she gazed at the menu. “I mean, I spent all afternoon trying to figure it out.”

“You should have called me sooner,” Zoe said.

“I didn’t call you,” Janine reminded her.

“Right,” Zoe said and thought that needed to change. “So, let’s think who would have been brilliant enough to guess the name of the baby. I mean, even those closest to Shaw couldn’t figure it out.”

“Right; like me. I knew it would be unconventional, but I really thought it would be a combination of their names or something,” Janine shared.

“Like… _Shoot_?” Zoe asked and laughed.

The younger woman easily saw the humor in the answer and laughed. Her blue eyes smiled as she told Zoe; “That was a good one.”

_The Fixer_ , who had shared a couple of meals with this overly devoted assistant to Shaw, noticed a very odd thing that was happening; she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Zoe had spent days chastising herself because the experienced woman knew, nothing was more dangerous for her business than a love distraction. She savored the convenience and no strings attached trysts and always felt her match would be John Reese. _This_ … was a complete surprise to the woman who didn’t like surprises.

“So, I can’t figure it out,” she heard Janine say and it brought her back.

“Right, so here’s what we need to do,” Zoe said and noticed how carefully the younger woman was listening. “Your ‘anonymous’ falls into a couple of possible categories; someone who would gain something personally from guessing right; someone who really knows who they are talking about; or someone who simply got lucky.”

Janine trusted her dinner date for several reasons. She was older; wiser; and you didn’t get the nickname – The Fixer – unless you had unusual skill sets.

“No one is _that_ lucky,” Janine decided because if they were, it would have been her.

“So, that means it’s someone who really knows the mothers; or at least _one_ of them,” Zoe said next. “Someone who wouldn’t follow rules of logic or reason. They have to be creative.”

This was definitely food for thought and Janine chewed on it longer than she did the meal set in front of her. She took those criteria and matched them against the entire staff at BEAR.

“I got nothing,” Janine said, defeated.

“You can’t assume you know people,” Zoe instructed slowly and blue eyes looked up at the ceiling as she took that in.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover – kind of thing?” Janine laughed.

“Yes, let’s take you, for example. On the surface, you appear to be a very devoted assistant with a huge – I’d say palpable - crush on Shaw,” Zoe said bluntly and Janine choked on her drink.

“Hey,” she said defensively.

“No, it’s totally understandable. Most people who meet Shaw have one to some degree,” Zoe confessed, feeling very comfortable divulging her innermost thoughts.

“Hey,” Janine said again, but this time it wasn’t defensive; it was full of warning.

“Don’t worry, Wonder-Assistant; it’s not what you think. Shaw and I have a friendly rivalry based on admiration and a deep seeded need to bust balls,” Zoe assured her.

“I don’t like it,” Janine declared.

“It’s okay – she enjoys it. Ask her,” Zoe assured the woman. “So, back to business. You look like a follower; but there’s so much more to you. Now, who knows Shaw, but needed to make their contribution anonymous?” the experienced investigator asked. “Someone…who would have wanted to join in, but couldn’t do it… openly.”

“Martine!” Janine guessed incorrectly. “You know, maybe because Shaw’s sister always wants what she has. Like that riding crop? Maybe Martine was afraid if she guessed it, it would give Ayala ideas of having a baby.”

There was a flood of thoughts going on behind Zoe’s blank – incredulous stare. “No,” Zoe said and smiled her waning patience. The fact that she liked this woman was evident in the fact that she was still there. Zoe, like Shaw, had little tolerance for people not catching on to where she was leading them. “Someone… who would need to be discrete. Check your email,” Zoe said, because she was that good.

“My email?” Janine questioned, but did it.

“Is there one suggesting you contribute the money to a charity or good cause?” Zoe asked, and now the pieced olive from her next drink was being caressed by the tip of her tongue as she held the toothpick.

“Yes, but how…?” Janine asked, not missing the suggestive motion of the woman’s mouth. Her eyes seemed glued to it. Zoe nodded her head to look and Janine finally did. There was an email asking her to take the winnings and donate it to a good cause in Michael Artan’s name. It was sent from Janine’s own work email – to herself.  Someone else had used it in her absence when she left for the day. 

“She needs to remain anonymous,” Zoe said, putting the pierced olive back in her glass. “She is careful not to make…,” the woman said slowly because the younger woman’s answer would determine if she was truly worthy of the faith Zoe had in her. “…a _slip_.”

It was the ultimate clue to the puzzle that Zoe Morgan solved hours before.

It took a couple of seconds, but Janine pieced it all together. “Doctor Campbell!” she almost shouted and covered her own mouth.

A very satisfied smile slowly appeared on her dinner guest’s face as she sat back. “I have always had a good feeling about you,” she said to Janine.


	8. With Knowledge, Comes Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading and to those who comment - I truly appreciate your insights.

“ _Wait_ until Shaw hears this!” Janine exclaimed with excitement and that’s where the real lesson began.

“Are you sure?” Zoe asked and sat up straight in her chair. “Discretion is the better part of valor.”

“But…,” Janine said because she understood what rule Zoe was referring to. “…it’s Shaw.” And by this she meant; no rules applied.

Zoe’s head jerked and she pursed her lips. “Sucks, don’t it?” she said bluntly. “Listen, – if being discrete came naturally, I’d be out of a job. My job is often taking care of things when people forget to pack their scruples.”

Janine listened carefully. “That must be hard,” she said sincerely.

That statement alone made the older woman think how different her dinner guest was. “I like you, Kid,” she smiled across the table. “You remind me that not everyone is lacking in moral fiber. Now, we just have to convince Shaw that no harm will come to you.”

“What does that mean?” Janine asked, truly unaware of the meaning.

“It means I might have to ask Shaw’s permission before taking you on our next date,” Zoe smiled deliciously across the last drops of her martini.

“Ooh,” Janine said, catching on to everything that was just said.

“That aside, I’m interested right now in what you’ll do with this information,” Morgan got back to the point.

“Well, on one hand,” she started and Zoe stared hard because there couldn’t be two hands in this messy stuff. “I wouldn’t have figured it out without your help,” Janine said and looked at the ceiling. “But on the other hand, Shaw will want to know and I’m afraid I might cave as soon as I see her.”

“You know, if I didn’t care so much, I’d suggest we go back to my place and I help you find that backbone you’re going to need,” Zoe said, her tone stinging because she was not used to dealing with innocents.

“Hey!” Janine said defensively, stirring in her seat and straightening that backbone.

“Sorry,” Zoe said and truly meant it. Being around nice people was hard work. “You know Shaw will respect you even more for standing up for what you believe. I mean, she’s built that way.”

“True,” Janine said.

“So?” Zoe asked and was trying to figure out where she was in all of this.

“I think I’ll leave it up to the Doc to tell her,” Janine decided.

“It’s amazing how far you’ve come in just one dinner,” Zoe remarked and smiled.

“Was that another shot?” Janine asked of its mixed message.

“Give me time, Kid. I’m out of practice being around nice people,” the Fixer admitted.

“I don’t mind waiting,” Janine replied.

Zoe put Janine in a cab after dinner and sent her home. She was breaking one of her biggest rules; mixing social and business interests. The younger woman was proving to be the worst distraction Zoe had experienced in a really long time.

And she was enjoying every moment of it.

* * *

When morning broke the next day, a very relaxed Shaw gently woke up Root. “We have the doctor’s office at 10:30 today,” she reminded her. “It’s her two month check-up!”

Shaw was so thrilled they had all made it that far. Root was aware of what the visit would entail.

“Sweetie,” she said slowly over breakfast. “Michael will need to get vaccinations today.”

“Today?” Shaw asked because her specialty was not pediatrics.

“Yes,” Root confirmed.

Shaw looked at the baby, who was content in her seat on the countertop, and back at Root. She looked at Isabelle, who wore a very sympathetic look on her face. “She’s going to cry,” Sameen whispered to Root, as if to warn her.

“I know,” Root said and patted Sameen’s arm.

The couple had been politely discharged from two pediatricians already – and there were no needles involved. This was going to be a real test.

“I’ll make something special for dinner,” Isabelle called out as the couple left because she wasn’t sure what else to do.

* * *

“Now, remember, Sweetie,” Root said softly while they were in the waiting room of the doctor’s office. “The pinch she feels will be temporary and we’ll be there to soothe her.”

“You’re saying that, but your tone says not to make a big deal out of this,” Shaw interpreted correctly.

“I like this doctor,” Root smiled.

“Got it,” said the reason for the other dismissals.

* * *

“Well, hello there,” the new pediatrician said when he walked into the room. “Who do we have here?”

Root liked that he sat in his chair and got down on the baby’s level as she sat in Root’s lap.

“This is Michael Artan,” Root said proudly.

“Well, that is a very beautiful name,” he said and Sameen let out her first breath. “I take it you’re the parents?” he smiled.

“Yes,” Root answered, but she was looking over at Shaw to make sure she was getting how nice he was.

“They don’t come with manuals,” he laughed and Sameen almost – not quite – but almost – softened. “So, you read up, follow protocols, ask friends who survived babyhood, and you’ll manage,” he said caringly. “She looks very happy,” he remarked and now Sameen smiled.

“She’s doing well with breastfeeding,” Root reported and told him how much and how often.

He typed it into his laptop and then washed his hands. Then, he asked Root to put Michael on the examination table as he conducted his first exam. He could feel the weight of Sameen’s stare as he gently disrobed the baby and spoke softly to her.

“My wife has a medical background, so I feel confident we’ll know what to do,” Root gushed.

“We’re usually the ones who worry the most,” he smiled to Sameen, never doubting for a second what her background was.

That admission actually made Sameen relax. “Yeah,” she uttered her first word.

“Now, she’s going to feel this, but I promise you, it will subside,” he said truthfully of the injections.

“WAIT!” Shaw said and the baby jumped. “Let’s… we need to… we should distract her…,” she said and the doctor looked straight at Root.

“Why don’t you hold her?” he said to Shaw and he handed Michael to her. “You talk to her and I’ll prep her arm,” he said, wiping it with the alcohol swab. The coldness made her jump, but her eyes stayed glued to Sameen as she spoke.

Now Shaw looked into Michael’s eyes. “Remember I said I would always be honest with you?  Well, this is going to hurt. And I’m sorry that it will, but I wouldn’t let them do it unless it was necessary. So, we’ll be brave together, okay? And then it will be over and …,” Sameen said, but her voice cracked because it hurt to see tears welling up in the baby’s eyes.

“All done,” the doctor announced and that was as far as Michael’s discomfort went. She never screamed, or cried out in pain. “You did really well,” he said to Shaw who sniffed back tears.

Root could have melted right there to watch her strong wife dissolve at the sight of their daughter’s upturned bottom lip.

“Call me… any time,” the doctor said as he said bade them goodbye. First time parents always needed more time and attention.

* * *

“Is she okay?” Sameen asked more than once as they drove back home.

“She’s doing fine,” Root assured her.

“He said she might have some discomfort around the injection site, so we have to keep an eye on that,” Shaw knew from her own training.

And by that, Root instinctively knew, they were going to put Michael between them and stare at her arm all day.

The couple spent lunch and dinner at home that day and the next, with Michael close by. She had no reaction to the shots and Sameen was certain it was because she was so tough.

“I want her to be tough, but also in touch with her feelings,” Sameen said, walking back and forth as if she were picking these characteristics from a menu.

“I want her to be smart like you,” Root cooed and the baby smiled back.

“I want her to be friendly, but kick someone’s ass if they mess with her,” Shaw continued.

‘ _That’s a given,_ ’ Bear growled to Shadow.

“We want her to have friends,” Root gently pointed out.

“Of course she’ll have friends. Who the hell wouldn’t want to be her friend,” the defensive mother questioned.

Root bit her bottom lip and could tell this was going to be a very serious discussion. “We should ask Fusco and Carter about parenting.”

“Fusco and Carter?” Shaw queried as if they weren’t obvious choices.

“They’re good… parents. We like their… children,” Root reminded her.

“I guess,” Shaw said, still uncomfortable with asking others.

“Or your mother?” Root said slowly because she wasn’t sure how Sameen would take that.

“Maybe,” Shaw responded, which was indicative of how far she’d come on that issue.

But Sameen was beginning to think she knew exactly who could help them – and it wasn’t even a parent.


	9. Sleeping Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Obviously the song is reprinted here in part w/o permission.

In spite of the declarations from her mothers that she was the sweetest baby on earth; Michael was feeling ornery Sunday night and kept everyone awake.

_‘Don’t they sleep_?’ Shadow asked Bear.

_‘I explained already; they’re not a very disciplined species. You have to accept these limitations_ ,’ he instructed.

And although they agreed they would, the baby’s shrill cries were met with barking and howling.

“No need to chime in,” Shaw said to them, dragging herself up to get Michael from the bassinet in their bedroom.

Shadow took one look at a very disheveled Sameen, _who forgot to remover her makeup last night because she collapsed into bed_ , and started backing up – out of fear. ‘ _Who is that_?’ she asked Bear because it didn’t even smell like the woman she knew.

‘ _Gross, righ_ t?’ Bear confirmed, happy someone else saw it, too.

‘ _Their appearances change so often_ ,’ Shadow complained because canines always look the same.

‘ _This_ …,” he howled, ‘… _is a particularly bad look - even on her_.’

Michael thought so, too. She looked up and got slightly uncomfortable with the appearance of the wild haired, black eyed woman who was picking her up. But once she was in her arms and heard her voice, she knew it was her mother.

* * *

Sameen comforted Michael as she took her to the changing table and changed her diaper. It wasn’t time for a feeding and she wanted to let Root sleep. Perhaps it was the reassuring tone of Shaw’s voice that temporarily quieted the baby, but when Sameen took her downstairs, the crying erupted all over again. Shaw worried and started to pace back and forth as the baby sat in the infant seat on the kitchen counter and screamed.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Shaw tried to convince her because usually she asked Root what the issue was. Root always seemed to know and would tell Shaw to pick her up, or rock her, or sing. “Sing!” Shaw remembered as the only thing she hadn’t tried.

“Tell anyone…,” Sameen warned the canines, “…and no treats for a week.”

‘ _This is going to be bad_ ,’ Bear howled because he had heard Sameen sing before.

“I heard that,” she said to him and he backed away. Still, he warned his protégé that she might want to pull back her large pointy ears. “Heard that, too.”

Ignoring the critics, Sameen cleared her throat and tried to think of a song. First, she hummed the lullaby that Michael loved, but even the song with her middle name in it didn’t work. “Okay, okay, “ Shaw said, trying to think of something else.

Bear howled that she needed newer songs.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Shaw huffed and tried to think of a nice song. When it finally dawned on her, she tried again. Looking right at Michael, whose eyes were watery from the yelling, Sameen started to sing her version of John Legend’s; “All of Me.”

In a slightly raspy voice and deeper that the original singer’s, Shaw started slowly.

‘What would I do without your smart mouth?  
_Drawing me in, and you kicking me out_  
 _You've got my head spinning, no kidding, I can't pin you down.’_  
 _Michael stopped long enough to slow down her sobs. Her lower lip still quivered as she realized her mother was singing. Shaw drew a deep breath and kept going._  
 _‘What's going on in that beautiful mind_  
 _I'm on your magical mystery ride_  
 _And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright.”_

Shaw noticed it was having some kind of effect and decided to keep going.

“ _My head's under water_  
 _But I'm breathing fine_  
 _You're crazy and I'm out of my mind.”_

She stopped to make sure the baby wasn’t taking offense to her words. Michael was staring intently and her lips were on the verge on turning upward now.

‘ _She’s going to wake up the neighborhood_ ,’ Shadow echoed what they said to her when she barked.

‘ _It’s actually not bad_ ,’ Bear decided. Of course, he now was measuring it against the baby’s shrill cry, so the bar was pretty low.

Sameen went full throttle with her next verse.

_“'Cause all of me_   
_Loves all of you_   
_Love your curves and all your edges_   
_All your perfect imperfections_   
_Give your all to me_   
_I'll give my all to you_   
_You're my end and my beginning_   
_Even when I lose I'm winning_   
_'Cause I give you all of me_   
_And you give me all of you, oh oh.”_

Michael was taken with her mother’s animation as she sang her heart out uninhibitedly. She liked the way her mother’s face smiled and the tone of her voice. She beamed when her mother wagged her feet and touched her hands. She was, in a word – _happy_.

“Oh, thank God,” Sameen said as she noticed the change in the baby’s demeanor.

‘ _That’s not the only way they stop crying, is it?_ ’ Shadow worried and put her ears back up.

The song came easily enough to Sameen because she often sang it to Root. The song had a similar effect on her when Shaw sang it – she melted. And now, standing outside the kitchen door and listening, Root’s heart swelled with love for this woman she adored.

“ _This_ is coffee,” she heard Shaw explain as she fixed herself a cup.

Root pushed opened the door slowly and took in the heartwarming sight of her exhausted wife, sipping coffee and talking to their adorable daughter. “It counteracts what you’re doing to us,” Shaw said in a sing-song voice.  
Root walked in and came up behind Sameen and wrapped her arms around her.

“Did I wake you?” Shaw worried.

“Not at all,” Root said and sat next to her. “I felt your absence.”

Root was always saying things like that and it made Sameen stop and shake her head. How could someone be so adorable and say such deep things without hesitation.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Root cooed to Michael, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon.

_‘And they say puppies are exhausting_ ,’ Bear lamented.

‘ _At least we sleep_ ,’ Shadow added as the two dogs went back to bed.

“Why don’t you call in sick today,” Root suggested as she kissed Sameen’s coffee laden lips.

“And you’ll call in sick?” she asked.

“I can’t; I have a meeting this morning,” Root said, her overstated sad face on.

“Then, I’m going, too,” Shaw said, unwilling to admit she was fatigued.

“You can sleep in your office,” Root teased.

“Right, like my boss would let me,” Shaw countered.

“Reese wouldn’t notice,” the CEO played along.

“ _Reese_ is my boss?” Shaw asked, feigning surprise. “I meant my _real_ boss.”

“Oh, Janine,” Root laughed. “She’d make a bed up for you if you wanted. Or even if you didn’t want it.”

* * *

The threesome made it to work and Root took the baby to her office where Gen was going to watch her while she did some work. The freshman was more than happy to work babysitting around her class schedule. Or was it the other way around.

If there was _any_ doubt that Sameen looked as bad as she felt; her good friend was about to tell her.

“Geez, Shaw; you look like crap,” Fusco said and she grabbed the donut bag away with force.

“Shut up,” she mumbled and rubbed her eyes. “She was up at one, three, and four thirty,” she practically whined, and then stared at him to hand her the coffee.

“You want I should hold it to your mouth?” laughed the detective who remembered this stage of being a parent. Truth be told, there wasn’t a stage that Lionel didn’t remember.

“Could you?” Shaw said and even Fusco was starting to feel sorry for her.

“Is she teething?” he asked and then said it was too soon. “Oh, wait until she does that, Shaw. It’s murder.”

“Thank you, _Kreskin_ ,” Shaw barked because she didn’t want anyone predicting the future if it was going to be worse.

Janine might have come to a conclusion not to share the name of the person who won the name lottery last night; but that didn’t mean she was prepared the next day.

“Good morning, Shaw!” Janine shouted from the doorway and came in with a large cup of coffee. She proceeded to put it down on her boss’ desk; all the time – refusing to look at her.

“What’s up there?” Fusco asked, looking at the ceiling to see what she was staring at.

“Dust,” Janine said and backed out of the office.

“She’s a little more fruit loop than usual, isn’t she?” Fusco asked.

“What?” Shaw asked, her eyes barely opened.

“Did you find out who won?” Lionel asked and dug his hand into the bag to grab a donut. “If you insist,” he said, because he knew his friend was bordering on incoherent.

“No… idea,” Shaw said, her head sideways on the desk.

“You know, I happen to know a person who works here who has a very comfortable couch,” Fusco leaned over and said.

“Root’s in a meeting,” Shaw replied, fully aware of who had the most comfortable furniture.

“I know someone _else_ ,” he said, because his friend was on the wrong track. Or couch.

“Could you speak in English?” Shaw begged.

“I happen to know someone is at a conference today and her nice, long, leather couch is vacant,” Fusco said because his girlfriend was in Washington, D.C. for the day.

It took a full minute, but Shaw figured it out. “I need to talk to her,” she said, but the end of that sentence was almost disjointed.

“Well, you could use her couch until she gets back,” he said, reveling in his guilt-free second donut.

“Is that why you’re eating up a storm?” Shaw asked. She may have been falling asleep, but she knew how many donuts the man had.

“No!” he said defensively and shoved the last of the sugary substance in his mouth.

“As soon as I’m back to a regular schedule, I’m making you come to the gym with me,” Shaw warned him.

There was a time when _that_ threat would have scared Fusco; but not today.

“Sure, Shaw,” he said, pulling her up to walk to Iris’ office. “I’ll meet you at the barbells in about eighteen years.”

He nodded to Janine that he was walking Sameen to Iris’ office. Shaw finally protested and pulled away from him, assuring him that she could work all day. But the sight of that empty couch was so inviting, that she said she would lie down for a short time.

“Minutes; wake me in ten minutes,” she barked, but it was more like a whimper.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” he whispered as he left his friend there.

“I heard that, Fusco,” Shaw tried to shout but it came out all garbled.


	10. Projections

There was thunderous applause for the presentation on Counter-transference at the ‘ _Therapy in Corporate America_ ’ Symposium in Washington, D.C. Not many would care to delve into the fact that while one’s patients are busy projecting their experiences onto the therapists, the therapists could be doing the very same thing to their clients.

“In order to give our patients the best opportunity for healing; we must look – not only across the room at them, but inward – at ourselves, and monitor what is going on with our own feelings,” Iris said in conclusion.

What the very astute speaker was suggesting was for her fellow therapists to remember that they, too, were humans with issues, and it was naïve to think they simply swept them under the proverbial carpet when clients walked into their offices.

In the Q&A that followed, a long line formed at the mic; interested participants who wanted to ask Dr. Campbell more about her topic. “What do you do?” was the most often asked question.  
Iris smiled because she was very familiar with this subject. She explained that she took note of any feelings, reactions, and behavior changes towards her clients and she discussed them with her own supervisor.

Iris was by far, the top attraction at the conference and many suggested she author her ideas and publish. It was not something Iris had considered before and she smiled all the way back to Manhattan on the Amtrak train. She looked out the window and thought about her own conversations with her therapist who oversaw her work with patients. She had spent more than one session talking about one client in particular. Her supervisor asked her if she thought her feelings for the client – because they were so pronounced – were getting in the way. Iris was the definitive professional and wondered if her supervisor’s suggestion that perhaps this client would do better with a less involved therapist – had merit. After giving it thought, Iris decided, since she knew she had Sameen’s best interest at heart and was addressing her own issues, she was doing right by her client.

* * *

Arriving back early that day, Iris headed to her office. She ran to catch the elevator and the occupant already inside, put her hand out to hold the door.

“Thanks,” Iris said, as she rushed in.

“Doc,” Zoe Morgan greeted her, because they knew each other from the various get togethers.

“Ms. Morgan,” Iris said smiling.

“Call me Zoe, please. I’m practically family,” she laughed.

“Zoe,” Iris repeated.

Silence filled the space between them.

“I’m here to see Shaw,” Zoe felt it necessary to share.

“Oh?” Iris commented because there was no real follow up remark to that statement.

“Have you ever noticed how Shaw attracts people to her, even though she doesn’t want it?” Zoe proffered and was thinking of, well, everyone.

“That is an interesting observation,” Iris noted, staring up at the numbers on the display.

“There must be some psychological reasons for that, right? Charisma? Magnetism?” Zoe put out there. “I mean some people just have it, right?”

“It would seem so,” Iris said because she was never pulled into a conversation unwillingly. “Do you feel that way about Ms. Shaw?”

Zoe’s smile grew slowly and wide, until her lips couldn’t move any more. She admired how skillfully Iris had put the question back on her. She’d have to remember how she did that. “You could say,” she responded and then the door opened. “After you.”

* * *

Iris didn’t know Zoe well enough to know what to make of the comments, but she smiled and said goodbye when they reached Janine’s office. Then, Iris went to her office and entered.

“Oh,” she said, slightly startled that there was a body on her couch. Her secretary had the day off and for a minute, she wondered who had sought refuge. “Ooh,” she smiled when she saw who it was. Sameen was lying there, stomach down, her face turned to the side; a slight amount of saliva was dripping out… as she snored. It was easy to see from the body form that Sameen had collapsed and was there for some time.

A low beep on Iris’ phone made her look at a text. ‘ _Left you a small package in your office –LOL_.’ She knew immediately it was from Lionel because he always capitalized his lol’s even though it wasn’t necessary.

‘ _I see_ ,’ Iris typed back.

‘ _No sleep; baby up all night. Take good care of her_ ,’ he responded. ‘ _And don’t tell her I said that!_ ’

Iris shook her head and smiled at her boyfriend’s request. She responded that she would see him later. Then, she took off her coat quietly, sat down in the chair that faced the couch, picked up a book and resumed her reading.

Just then, the sleep-deprived mother stirred and realized – she had no idea where she was. She opened her eyes, but the sensation of the couch and the setting were so unfamiliar to her, that she panicked and shot up. Iris closed the book on her lap and waited.

“What the hell?” Shaw asked as she felt the dribble on her cheek and saw Iris sitting in her chair, directly across from her. “How did I?” she asked, trying to recall how she got there. She had been in such a deep sleep that it took a minute to recall. It finally came back to her. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to kill your boyfriend,” Shaw said, taking the tissue that Iris left on the couch and wiping her mouth.

Iris smiled in response, and asked how Sameen was.

“You mean, because I’m sneaking into your office to take naps all morning?” Shaw asked.

“No, I meant in general, how are you?” Iris replied.

“Good, we’re good. Baby is good,” Shaw automatically answered. “Oh, yeah, that reminds me,” the slowly coming-to client remembered. “I want to hire you.”

Iris’ eyebrows slanted downward as she tried to solve that puzzling statement. “Hire me?” she finally asked.

“Yes,” Shaw confirmed. “The way I see it, there’s a really good chance I’m going to screw up being a parent. Not that I’m not trying and I’m better than a lot of people, I’m sure. But if you could observe us – like maybe over dinner once a week – you could help Michael head off some of the issues that will bring her right here,” Shaw said, patting the couch.

“That’s a beautiful name,” Iris smiled and there was something in her tone that made Shaw stare. Little got past her.

“Yeah, we thought so,” Shaw said slowly and sat back.

“Sameen, while I appreciate that you think I could foresee whatever effects you’re concerned about, I doubt that observing it in real time is the answer,” Iris explained.

“Okay…,” Shaw said, because she was going to be flexible on this topic, “… _what_ is the answer?”

Iris truly appreciated Shaw’s tenacity. “Well, are you concerned about Michael?”

It was a good question. “I don’t think we’ve done anything irreparable so far,” she thought through. “And by we, I mean me. Root is innately good at this. I’m a wreck,” she said, looking around to make sure no one heard that admission.

“It can be nerve wracking, especially in the beginning,” Iris concurred.

“It’s exhausting,” Shaw said, rubbing her eyes. “But it’s also the best thing. I mean, she’s adorable.”

Iris smiled at Shaw’s gushing. “Sameen, remember when we talked about how you would know what Root wanted?”

“Yes, you suggested I ask her – but, as bright at this baby is, Doc; she’s not talking yet,” Shaw pointed out.

Iris laughed. “Yes, I know it’s different with children, but you and Root can talk about what is best for her.”

“Doc, there’s no denying what happens to us as kids when our parents are…?” and Sameen hesitated.

“Imperfect? Human?” Iris suggested.

Her point wasn’t lost on the woman who sat there across from her. “Something like that,” Sameen smiled. “I was going to say _absent_.” It was at the very core of Sameen’s fears that she would repeat, somehow, the mistakes that were made for her.

“You are a different person and are very much aware of what that was like. Do you foresee any circumstances under which you would repeat that?” Iris asked and her tone was definite.

“No,” Shaw said, understanding the difference.

Iris waited while thoughts swirled in Sameen’s head. “You can’t retire until she’s like thirty,” Sameen said, only half kidding.

“Are you concerned that I won’t be here?” Iris asked because she was skilled at getting to the heart of the matter. Abandonment was a recurring theme in Shaw’s discussions.

“What? No!” Sameen protested – too much. “No, of course not, but you know, if she needs someone, to talk to…”

“I bet she will talk to you,” Iris suggested openly.

“Well, yeah, but what about that stage they go through where they hate their parents?” Shaw countered.

“Adolescence?” Iris asked.

“Well, I was thinking pre-school, but okay yeah, adolescence, too,” Shaw clarified.

“Sameen, from what I know about parenting, you get to do it every day and you get to do it differently if something isn’t working,” Iris assured her.

Sameen wasn’t sure why things sounded like they made sense when this woman explained them, but maybe it had to do with the fact that she trusted the therapist. “Okay, but if you notice something glaring, you’ll tell me, right?” Shaw wasn’t letting go so easily.

“Yes,” Iris conceded and it satisfied the anxious mother.

“Okay, well thanks for letting me nap here,” Shaw smiled, getting up.

“You’ve come a long way, Sameen,” Iris noted out loud as she stood up, too.

“You mean because of the baby?” asked the unassuming client.

“I mean because of you,” Iris answered.

The book Iris had been reading slipped off her the arm of the chair and fell onto the floor. Sameen immediately bent down and retrieved it; handing it back to Iris. The smallest corner of the bookmark peeked out from the page Iris had placed it in. Shaw’s keen vision caught it and knew what it was immediately.

“You’re good,” she said, handing the book back to her therapist. She held onto it when Iris retrieved it. “Really good.”

Shaw was pleased that she had figured out who guessed the baby’s name. On some level, it made perfect sense that the woman who knew her on such a deep level, would be able to figure out how she would name her baby. The blush in Iris’ cheeks confirmed that she knew her secret was out.

“I’ll see you soon,” Shaw smiled as she walked out of Iris’ office.

Shaw would have to ask Iris how she chose that name… someday.

* * *

“How are you feeling?” Janine asked when Shaw returned to her office.

Shaw looked at Zoe Morgan, who was sitting there, and at her assistant who struggled to avert her gaze.

“I know who it is, so you can relax,” Sameen said to her worried assistant.

“Oh, thank God!” Janine let out and Zoe shook her head.

“Got a minute, Shaw?” Zoe asked and followed Sameen into her office.

“I’m on my way up to see Root and Michael,” Shaw said, missing them terribly.

“This won’t take long,” Zoe promised and made herself comfortable in the chair next to Shaw’s desk. “I would never think of doing this, believe me, but I think it’s important to her. So, here goes; are you okay with me dating your assistant? And before you answer that, you should know I’m going to do it anyway, but it will make life a whole lot easier on her,” Zoe explained.

Shaw sat back in her chair and looked at the woman. There was something so blunt about Zoe and she liked it. “I’m not her mother,” Shaw pointed out.

“Worse,” Zoe quipped. “You’re her idol and she won’t be able to function if she thinks you have an issue with us.”

Shaw wanted to ask why people insisted on involving her in things that she never wanted to be involved in, but that would have taken too long.

“JANINE!” Shaw yelled, taking the shortest route to the solution.

The woman appeared instantly. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“Ms. Morgan is asking if it’s okay to date you,” Shaw said. “Are you okay with it?”

Janine couldn’t believe that Zoe had done that. “I..I..,” she hesitated because she was afraid it had annoyed Shaw.

“I don’t think she wants to…,” Shaw started to say, to move things along.

“I do, I do,” Janine corrected her.

“There…,” Shaw said, “…problem solved.”

“And…?” Zoe prompted Shaw to give them her blessing.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw complained. She took a deep breath. “Okay, if you two want to date, great,” she said halfheartedly and could see Janine wasn’t happy with that response. “But…,” Shaw said, figuring out what would work. “If you do anything to hurt her, I’ll be _forced_ to take care of things.”

Classic Shaw being tough and protective. Janine practically swooned as she went back to her desk. Zoe smiled to think what a nice thing Shaw had done.

Shaw stopped Zoe before she exited. “I’m not kidding,” she said in a very serious tone, staring Zoe right in the eye.

It seemed every time Zoe was with Shaw, she understood more and more what people saw in her.

* * *

Sameen said goodbye to the newly formed couple and practically ran upstairs to the quiet of her wife’s office.

“Do you know…,” she said to Michael who sat on Root’s lap, “…that Mommy hires only crazy people? Yes, she does.”

Michael laughed and gurgled at her mother’s sing-song voice.

“That’s not true; I hired you,” Root pointed out and waited for Sameen to lean over and kiss her.

“You tazed, zip-tied, and drugged me,” Shaw corrected her.

“Those were the days,” Root remembered fondly. The baby reached out and her hand closed on Sameen’s long strand of hair. “I see someone has you wrapped around her finger,” Root teased.

“She’s not the only one,” Sameen assured Root as she knelt in front of them and took her hand.

“This is why I hired your mother,” Root said to the baby. “That sweet talk got right to me.”

Shaw picked up Michael and repeated; “Mommy means; she tazed, zip-tied and drugged me.”

Root stopped working and watched Sameen talk to the baby. She didn’t think there was a better sight to see. The beep on her machine finally interrupted her.

“What is that?” Shaw asked, placing Michael down in the infant seat on Root’s desk.

“I’m allowing the Machine to observe us as a way of teaching her,” Root explained.

“Teach her what? What sleep deprivation does to humans?” Shaw quipped.

Root was tapping on her keyboard. “In order to teach her how to help humans; I have to teach her that we matter.”

Root made it sound like such a simple lesson, but then, Root had a way of making most things sound achievable.

“Just remind her if she screws up, I’ll unhinge her last wire,” Shaw said, but said it in such a sweet voice, that the baby laughed.

The loud beep was heard again and Root looked back at her screen.

‘ _I am learning a lot from Shaw_ ,’ the message read.

“I bet you are,” smiled Root as she got ready to leave with her family.


	11. On Target

Fusco didn’t stop at just having his girlfriend share her couch with his buddy; he also enlisted his partner’s help.

“It’s just – I know how she thinks,” he said to Joss and then stopped to think that over. “That’s usually not a good thing, but in this case, I can help.”

“And so you want me to take her shooting? While we talk babies?” Carter asked to be clear. “Can’t we just go for coffee?”

“No!” Fusco said vehemently. “Nothing where it looks like it’s instructional. She needs to be doing something else while you’re talking.”

“Have you seen the woman eat?” Joss said, thinking Shaw would be very busy if they went to the diner.

“She won’t hear you if she’s eating,” Fusco said annoyed, as if he expected her to know that already.

“And you think I can talk over the sound of shots being fired?” Joss pointed out. She loved that Fusco was so caring about his BFF, but it was making him crazy to figure out what to do.

“Not while she’s shooting,” he said because if she didn’t care for what Joss said, he’d be out a partner and a best friend. “Just come cas-u-al,” and he drew the words out, “con-ver-sa-tion.”

“About babies? At the gun range?” Joss tried again to point out the setting.

“Yes,”Fusco answered. “And whatever you do, don’t tell her I set this up!”

“God forbid,” Joss rolled her eyes. She truly loved this group of people, but felt there was a mob craziness that they were all card carrying members of. Even the calmest member seemed caught up in it.

* * *

“So, Fusco wants me to talk to Shaw about babies, but… at the gun range,” Joss said that night when she was getting ready for bed. With Taylor at a friend’s house, it gave her and John an opportunity to spend the night alone together.

After a long moment, John responded. “That’s probably a good idea. She could use some insights from an experienced person.”

“At a gun range?” she asked, hoping he would think that setting was unfavorable.

“Oh, I see what you mean,” Reese said and Joss uttered – ‘ _Finally_ ’. “But the only other place I can think of would be the gym, and you don’t want to be doing martial arts with Shaw if you’re telling her something she doesn’t want to hear.”

Joss stared at him; the incredulous look plastered all over her face.

“What?” Reese asked sincerely.

It reduced her to mumbles as she ranted to herself that they were all crazy and they were pulling her in, too, and there would be no saving her, because they were all crazy.

“You seem tense,” Reese said, his voice soft and low.

“Don’t try to make me feel better,” Joss said, but his large hands were already kneading her shoulder muscles and stirring up feelings. “You think….I’m not going to…there, there, right there,” she begged as his fingers massaged the knot near her shoulder blades. “I hate that you can reduce me to this,” Joss laughed as she gave into his expert caresses.

* * *

The only reason Joss stopped by BEAR the next morning was because Fusco had texted her three times, asking if she had made the arrangements. Root noticed her entering the building, talking to herself.

“Swear to God, how could he forget I have a full time job,” she rambled under her breath. “I sit straight across from the man!”

“Hi, Joss,” Root said, causing the detective to look at her strangely. It was almost as if Joss didn’t realize where she was.

“Oh, Root, hey,” Joss said, pushing hair away from her flushed face. “Hi.”

“Everything…okay?” the concerned woman asked. It wasn’t like the cool and collected woman to talk to herself.

“Me? Oh, yes; just the usual. Hey, I was wondering if Shaw had time to get recertified today. You know, when you work with the NYPD, we like to make sure you know how to shoot a gun,” she said and then cringed at how that sounded.

“Oh, well, Sameen is…,” Root tried to say, but was cut off.

“Where is Michael?” Joss asked.

“Sameen was dropping her off at her mother’s until lunchtime because we…,” Root tried to explain when they both heard a loud roar coming through the door.

“Do you believe that my mother has _not_ childproofed her house? There are electrical outlets all over that place,” Shaw said, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Is she walking?” Joss had to ask.

“My mother?” Shaw asked in earnest.

“Isn’t your sister there?” Root interjected.

“Right, so my mother has _two_ children to look after,” Shaw ranted.

Changing her mind right there on the spot, Joss declared: “I got in just in time.”

“For what?” Shaw asked, just noticing she was there.

“Oh, you know, you have to be recertified because you occasionally work with the NYPD,” Joss explained.

“I’ve seen you people shoot; are you sure I have to be certified because…,” Shaw was about to explain, but Root had already realized Joss’ appearance was on purpose. And she doubted it had to do with making sure Shaw could operate her weapon.

“We do help the NYPD,” Root said, taking Shaw’s hand and causing her to focus. “You know…,” she said, raising her eyebrow.

“Oh,” Shaw said because that one gesture told her Root was talking about how the Machine fed info to informants who then passed it on to the cops. “Why don’t you get _her_ certified?”

Joss wasn’t Fusco and there was only so much banter she’d tolerate before taking things – and Shaw – into her own hands. “Let’s go, Shaw; it’ll be fun,” she said, putting her arm through Sameen’s and walking her out.

“Wait!” Shaw balked and unhinged herself. Joss thought for sure she was going to have a fight on her hands, but after Sameen walked back to kiss Root goodbye, she returned to Joss’ side. “Get ready to be impressed, Detective,” Shaw boasted as she walked out.

Joss shouldn’t have been amazed at how well Fusco knew his friend, but she was. “Well, I’ll be damned,” Joss said as she followed Sameen.

* * *

Several rounds later, and after Sameen produced several perfect targets to give to Carter, Fusco, Reese, and anyone else who doubted her skills for a minute, they sat down.

It wasn’t hard to bring up the subject of babies, because like most new parents, Michael was all Shaw talked about.

“You gotta see her in the morning, Joss. She smiles and it just makes everything great,” Shaw said and Joss grinned to hear her friend speak so lovingly.

“It’s great, aint it?” Joss concurred. “How are you sleeping?”

“She’s been waking up. Truthfully, I’m really tired,” Shaw said as they cleaned their guns.

“Yeah, it gets better, I promise. They’ll start sleeping through the night and so will you.”

“Really?” Shaw asked because she was anxious for that to happen.

“Yes and then, they’ll turn sixteen, start driving and you’ll be up all night until they come home,” Joss laughed.

“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” Shaw said definitely. “She’s never driving and she’s never going out.”

For a minute, Joss stared to make sure Shaw was kidding. And she almost was.

“Listen Shaw, this beginning stuff is hard because you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing, but that baby will tell you if she’s unhappy. And I can already tell you’re doing great because you’re concerned. Just don’t do it at the expense of time for you and Root,” the woman suggested.

Sameen looked over at her friend and the expression on her face. “Oh,” Shaw said, understanding the message clearly not to obsess. “Doc tells me we’ll figure it out,” Shaw shared.

“And you will, I promise,” Joss said, patting Shaw’s hand. “And we’re a phone call away if you ever need us.”

“Us?” Shaw said, already suspecting that Fusco was behind this.

“Don’t tell him,” Joss said, not at all surprised Shaw knew.

“Wait, did I need to be recertified?” Shaw asked.

“Not really,” Joss answered truthfully.

“Damn!” Shaw uttered and Joss thought maybe she was upset. “But the scores count, right? I mean, you’ll show Fusco – dead center – on every shot, right?”

“I’ll tape it to his desk,” Joss agreed.

“Thanks,” the new mother said, satisfied. “And thanks, Carter. It helps to hear people have survived this.”

“It’s not always easy, Shaw; but it’s always worth it,” the wise woman stated.

* * *

Sameen would repeat that to Root that night and express how profound she found that statement. Root, of course, would act surprised that Fusco was involved, but she would be very impressed with how her wife figured it out.

“Look at this,” Root said to Michael, holding up one of the target sheets. “Mommy doesn’t miss.”

Shaw pulled the paper out of Root’s hand slowly and turned her around. “I never miss,” Shaw smiled and grabbed Root into a warm embrace.

“That was nice,” Root said, slightly dizzy from the heat of the kiss.

“Thank you,” Shaw said softly.

“For what?” Root asked back.

“For being the most wonderful partner; for being a terrific mother and for making it look easy when it’s not, and for doing this with me,” Shaw said, looking down at the baby who was all smiles.

“Of course,” Root said breathless. “We’re a family.”

That word hit Sameen right in her heart. She heard it before, and she knew it, but hearing Root declare anything – always gave it more meaning. And after the day she had with Iris and Joss, she was truly starting to believe that she could do this – and do it well...enough.


	12. If the Shoe Fits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Angela asked for a little parental angst. At first, I 'saw' this issue in the opposite for Root and Shaw. But I thought this might be more fun. Let me know your thoughts. As always, grateful for your reading along and posts.

Michael seemingly gave her mothers a break that night; allowing them to get a solid five hours sleep. Root smiled when she heard Shaw explain in a soft voice as she changed their daughter, that the _importance_ of sleep could not be overstated. Michael seemed to argue her point – yelling in a long stream on grunts. “Okay, okay,” Shaw said, immediately giving in – which sent Root into a fit of laughter.

“I think she just yelled at me,” Shaw said, amazed at the tone the baby seemed to have taken.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” Root said as she sat up and prepared to nurse the baby. Maybe it was because she was hungry, but Michael seemed to reiterate that same noise to Root. “I think she did,” Root laughed as Shaw came back into bed next to them.

Michael’s mood improved once she fed and Shaw’s also got better with another hour of sleep.

* * *

Root placed the baby back in her crib when she was done and took a nice, long shower – a rarity these early days of parenting. When she emerged, Sameen was getting up and rushing around.

“What has you out of bed so eagerly,” Root asked as Sameen searched for her other sneaker.

“I swear they take them just to drive me nuts,” Shaw accused the canines.

“They wouldn’t do that,” Root defended them, but when she thought about it, Sameen was probably right. The two dogs did seem to take delight in agitating her.

It was, in part, her own fault because she would chase them – and the dogs enjoyed nothing better than – well, being faster than the biped. “What has you out of bed?” Root asked, getting back to her inquiry.

“Sonova,” Shaw said softly. “What? Oh, Fusco.”

“Well,” Root said matter-of-factly, “…not sure I like my wife getting up from our warm bed for a man,” she teased.

“It’s not a man; it’s Fusco,” Shaw countered – and meant it. “And I’m repaying a favor.”

“Which one?” Root just had to ask because in spite of her wife’s stare, the man did do them a great number of favors.

“The one where he called in the Calvary,” Shaw said cryptically.

“Breakfast?” Root asked, knowing there was no sense in trying to change her mind.

“No,” Shaw said, her head now under the bed as she searched for the missing footwear. “If one of them has it in their mouths, say goodbye.”

“Okay,” Root said, kissing the lips that uttered that idle threat.

* * *

Root was surprised that Sameen was running off without breakfast, but her fears were allayed when Sameen followed her into the kitchen. “Where are they?” Shaw asked Isabelle who was busy setting three plates down.

“Who’s joining us?” Root asked as she placed Michael in the baby seat.

“Good morning,” Janine said, before Isabelle could announce her. “I’m sorry to be here so early, but I brought all that information you wanted.”

“ _What_ information did we want?” Root asked and thanked Isabelle for the tea.

“Okay, I’ll have something light, but then I have to go,” Shaw told her and by light, she meant only _one_ helping of eggs, sausage, homemade biscuits and orange juice.

“Oh,” Janine said, accepting the coffee that Isabelle poured. “The information…about…the…,” she hesitated, hoping Sameen would take over filling in the blanks.

“Pie-vat skool,” Shaw said, her mouth full.

Root tried to decipher that utterance. “It sounded like you said – _private school_ ,” she said.

“Dalton, to be exact,” Janine said, opening up her portfolio and retrieving papers. “Also, Trinity and Chapin,” the assistant said proudly. These weren’t just private schools; these were the impossible to get into elite schools.

“Great,” Shaw said at the same time Root’s expression hardened.

“Why would you want info on those schools?” Root asked, genuinely curious.

“Why?” Shaw asked and her tone clearly noted – _isn’t it obvious_ – when it wasn’t. Janine and Isabelle looked at one another when Shaw and Root sort of said the same thing at the same time.

“For Michael,” Sameen gave in and answered – at the same time that her wife said;

“Not for Michael, I hope.”

“So…,” Janine said, slowly slipping off her seat. “I’ll just leave these for you…,” she said slowly.

“Root, we want her to go to a good school and you have to start now to get into these places. Right?” Shaw asked her assistant who was stuttering her answer.

“Sameen, I didn’t think we decided on… well, any of this,” Root said and swept her hand across the air. It was obvious that Shaw had thought about it, but Root couldn’t imagine when! “Where was I when you decided to get this information? “

Sameen had to think about that. “You were in your office,” she answered to the best of her knowledge. It was something Sameen googled – and ran with. “It said people usually start this before the baby is born, so naturally I figured we would want to get on this.”

“But…,” Root said, trying to take this all in. “Private school?”

“The _best_ private school,” Sameen answered and Root looked at her wondering where the real Sameen was. “I have to find my shoe,” said the one-shoed woman.

Root was so stunned that she didn’t know what to say. Sameen was the last person in the world she would have suspected of wanting their daughter in private school. A school that – according to the paper she looked at – she was already late in applying to.

“This is…,” Root said, looking up at Isabelle. “Please watch her…,” she asked as she left the kitchen in pursuit of her wife. She wasn’t sure what this was, but she knew she was taken aback.

Shaw was oblivious to Root’s concern and confusion, not because she didn’t care, of course; but because she just found out she was right – the dogs had taken her sneaker. “Give it back,” she barked at the dog that was certain she could win in a tug of war. She did as Bear taught her; she dropped it and just as Sameen grabbed it; she grabbed the other end in her mouth and tugged. She wasn’t trying to give her human a hard time; it was just that with the new baby and all; playtime was scarce. “Give…me…my…shoe,” Sameen demanded as she fell forward from the force of the German Shepard’s mouth.

‘ _This is easier than I thought_ ,’ whined Shadow to her tutor.

‘ _Lack of sleep really makes them easy mark_ s,’ Bear concurred. But he was watchful not to let the protégé overdo it. She was, after all, getting bigger and stronger. ‘ _That’s enough_ ,’ he barked softly and Shadow let go.

_‘But she thinks she won_ ,’ cried the dog who wanted desperately to win.

‘ _But we both know she didn’t_ ,’ the wiser canine pointed out.

“Take that!” gloated the woman who mistook the dog’s letting go for actually being stronger. “Geez, it’s wet with dog saliva,” Shaw complained, sitting on the floor and shoving her foot in it. She jumped up immediately because she wanted to surprise Fusco. She was surprised to find Root standing there.

“I think we might be on different pages on this,” Root calmly pointed out. She wanted to give Sameen the benefit of the doubt because, in truth, they never had discussed it.

“Oh,” Shaw said, wishing Root would save this for later. If she arrived and Fusco was already dressed for work, she couldn’t surprise him. “Well, Fusco has been stress-eating and I thought it would help…,” she explained to help Root get on the same page.

_Right_ page, _wrong_ book.

“Not Lionel, Sweetie, Root said as Shaw pushed her arm into a light jacket and started towards the elevator.

“Huh?” Shaw said, not catching on.

“Private school?” Root clued her clueless wife in.

“Oh, yeah, we can talk about it over breakfast; when I get back, okay?” Shaw said, happy that Root was onboard. “Janine can start filling out the forms,” she yelled from the elevator after kissing her wife goodbye.

Root knew holding Sameen back when she was hell bent on a mission was not going to help; so she let her go.

One look at Root was all the assistant needed to take and she knew something was up.

“I’m not going to start on that paperwork, am I?” she questioned her – _other_ – boss.

“No,” Root smiled, but in a definite tone.

“But you’ll talk to her, right?” Janine asked because she never wanted to disappoint Sameen.

“Oh, yes,” Root said and Janine wasn’t sure she liked the sound of it. It wasn’t mean; because Root never took that tone. It was more – _Sameen’s not getting her way on this_ – kind of tone.

In other words, Janine never really heard it before.

* * *

Root’s kindness in allowing Sameen to leave unaware of the impending discord, meant Fusco would be the recipient of all of Sameen’s energy.  
She was on her way to Fusco’s apartment long before the sun was up. She wanted the element of surprise on her side.

Breaking in - was a piece of cake. She warned him many times to get a vertical deadbolt, but just to spite her, he wouldn’t. For his part, Lionel would warn her that if she broke in again; she’d be sorry. Then, like the _Abbot and Costello_ routine friends that they were; Shaw would say she was already sorry.

But today, she was stealth mode. She quietly unlocked the lock and opened the door. She slowly crept through the kitchen and the hallway to his bedroom in the dark. She’d turn on the light before dragging him out of bed to go for a run because she didn’t want to give him a heart attack. ‘It would be just like him to do that to get out of it,” she mused as she opened his bedroom door.

The only reason Sameen had picked that morning was because she had casually checked out his schedule. Inquiring about Lee, Fusco told her he was away at his grandmother’s. Asking where he and Iris were going to dinner, he shared that his girlfriend was visiting her family in Brooklyn. Sameen didn’t want a repeat of the last time she did this. So when he told Shaw it was just him and the Knicks and pizza, she made her plan.

Of course, Lionel had no idea his friend was about to impose her surprise exercise routine on him – so he never bothered to update her on the changes to his plans.

Shaw moved with the quietness of a professional burglar and slowly walked to the end of the bed. “One, turn on lights; two, grab his ankles; three, pull his sorry ass out of bed. Four; depending on his state of dress, throw clothes at him or pull him to the door.”

After reviewing her steps, she went into action.

Lionel was sound asleep of course and damn near did have a heart attack when he suddenly found himself being dragged out of bed. Thankfully, for all their sakes, he was dressed.

“LET’S GO!” Shaw yelled like the drill sergeant she was.

“What the helllll,” Fusco yelled and tried to grab for his service weapon, but that was all the way in his nightstand.

“Oh, I forgot one,” Shaw said and turned on the light.

“Geezus, Shaw, what the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he tried to regain some composure.

Shaw would have answered, but she noticed Fusco’s girlfriend. Pulling the cover, to make sure Lionel didn’t take it with him; Iris sat up slightly in bed.

“Good morning, Sameen,” she said – not at all surprised at the dawn break-in and entering.

“Oh, hey, Doc,” Shaw said and then looked down at her friend, annoyed he didn’t tell her.

“Have you heard about this thing called the phone, Shaw?” Fusco barked.

“Have you heard about this thing called _I won’t eat all the donuts in the bag_?” Shaw shot back. “Let’s go. Sorry, Doc, but I came all the way here…,” she tried to explain to the woman who long accepted that these two had an unusual relationship. One that would earn her a second Ph.D. if she figured it out, she was sure.

“Would you…?” Iris said, pointing to the light and Sameen jumped to shut it.

“Let’s go, Fusco,” Shaw said, pulling him up now that his girlfriend was going back to sleep.

“I’m reporting you for police abuse,” he tried, but she already had him out of the bedroom.

"Stop whining," Shaw barked as she closed the door. 


	13. Crossing Paths

“I could shoot you right _now_ , I swear,” Fusco called out from the bathroom as he put on a pair of sweatpants because his well-intentioned friend gave him thirty seconds to get ready.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shaw said and pushed on the door to show him she meant business.

“Okay, okay,” he yelled back. Neither of them were using their inside voices, of course, and Iris remained awake inside, shaking her head at the duo. What an interesting couple they made.

Iris wasn’t the only one they kept awake as they made their way downstairs. “You gotta let me warm up,” Fusco pleaded and Shaw conducted some jumping jacks and running in place to oblige him.

He argued that she didn’t have time for his; she countered that she’d always have time to save his sorry ass.

“I was worried about you two, having the baby. So, I eat when I’m worried,” he tried to explain.

“Worried? Fusco, why were you worried?” Shaw asked.

He stopped jumping and looked at her. Now, he could have been totally honest or he could have spared her feelings. “How can I say this,” he said as she beckoned him to start jogging. He gave it a moment’s thought and then said; “You’re nuts.”

“Thanks,” Shaw said. “I’m out here before sunrise, trying to help you and you call me nuts?”

“No,” her friend argued. “You’re doing this because you’re mean. I meant, I was worried because you’re acting nuts about the baby.” He thought he cleared that up; none of it made her feel better.

“Excuse me?” Shaw said, stopping in her tracks.

They’d only run a block at a slow pace, but Lionel was already feeling it. “Look Shaw, I love you like a…,” and he wasn’t sure if it was sister or brother. “But you are hyper over this baby. And I get it, you never want to screw your kid up, but you’re doing a great job and you gotta calm down.”

“I AM CALM!” she barked, proving his point. “Okay, I wasn’t maybe,” Shaw said, hearing her reaction. “But I spoke to Doc and your partner and of course, Root, and they all made sense and I’m calmer now.”

“Good,” Fusco said, a slight smile on his face over the fact that he orchestrated some of that. “Oh,” it dawned on him. “Is this payback?”

Now, the easy answer was yes, but there was more to it. And Sameen decided to speak from the heart and not shoot from her hip.

“Look, you big pain, I get that the next few years are going to be nerve wracking and that I need to follow my instincts and trust that Root and I will do our best, but I also need… you know… people who know what they’re doing…like you and Carter,” Shaw said, sniffing air through her nose and not looking him in the eye.

“So, you want me around?” Fusco figured out and smiled. His skillful interpretation earned him a death stare.

“Yes, and I need you to take care of yourself, so stop with the overeating already!” Shaw commanded.

“You… _need_ … me?” Fusco busted.

“If you don’t start running with me, I’m going to lay you out right here on the sidewalk,” she threatened.

“You _need_ me,” Fusco said, irritating Sameen with her own words.

“I need you to pick up the pace. Oh my God, you are slow,” Sameen complained as she dodged his accurate assessment. To make her point that she was fast and he was dawdling, she turned and jogged backwards, taunting him to keep up. She was getting farther ahead as he tried to keep pace.

It was all a matter of geometry really.

Shaw; moving backwards in a straight line ahead. Fusco; yards directly behind her. Her view straight on him. His view; on the truck barreling down the street at a perpendicular angle as Shaw’s path.

Fusco never ran so fast in his life.

All Sameen saw was her friend charging at her. She misinterpreted it as Fusco finally being spurred on by her teasing. It wasn’t until the blare of the horn and screeching brakes – oh, and Fusco’s stocky body on top of hers – did Sameen even start to comprehend that his motivation was to save her life.

The only part of her that did move was her head as it swerved to see the truck speeding away and back to Fusco’s eyes that were now only inches away. “Holy…,” she said.

“Crap,” Fusco finished and moved to get off her. “Are you okay?” Now it was he who was doing the dragging as he pulled her up to a vertical position to inspect her. “Anything broken? Are you hurt?” he asked, looking her up and down.

Time slowed down for Sameen as she stood there – realizing how close she was to getting seriously hurt. “I didn’t… see it,” she said, amazed at how that could happen.

“Yeah, he came outta nowhere,” Fusco assured her.

“I could have been…,” Shaw started to put together.

“Hey, look at me,” Fusco commanded and it took a second for her to comply. She kept looking at the street where her body could have been crushed. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Shaw said because that was always her answer.

Lionel watched as Shaw replayed that over and over. Her breathing was labored as she searched her pocket for her phone. Lionel took a deep breath as his friend called her wife. It took only a second for Root to hear it in Sameen’s voice.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Root said with urgency.

“Lionel… saved me,” Shaw said and it was the shortest time in their history that she ever gave him the credit he was due. “I’m okay,” she assured Root who was pacing the floor now.

Shaw finally got out the details of the seconds that could have changed their lives. There was a time when Shaw would have yelled at Fusco for saving her because it would have been easier than admitting she made a mistake. But that was before she had a wife and mother. Now, every time something happened to her, she thought about it in terms of her family. “I’m okay,” she repeated for her own benefit as much as Root’s.

“Let me talk to Lionel,” Root said because she wanted absolute confirmation.

“Hey, she’s okay,” Lionel said into the phone. “Yeah, the bastard came out of nowhere. Took off. No, she’s fine. Really. I’ll bring her back,” he assured Root.

Lionel hung up and handed Sameen back her phone. “I told her I’d bring you home.”

“Lionel,” Shaw said, the bigger picture coming into view.

“Yeah, Maybelline?” he said, finally breathing normally.

“Thank you,” Shaw said, holding onto his arm.

Lionel wasn’t used to his friend being so sincere with her gratitude. He knew it was hard for her and that she must have been truly scared. “It’s okay; you would have done the same. Come on, let’s get you home.”

* * *

Much to Lionel’s surprise, Shaw allowed him to put his arm around her and walk her in the direction of her car. He drove her home in the early morning traffic; red lights designed to delay them.

That was because Root's plan was already set in motion.  Root had accessed the Machine … to find out who the driver was … and where he was at that very moment. Then, making sure that Isabelle could watch Michael, Root set out to find the man that almost killed her wife.

He was going to be a very sorry individual.

While Shaw’s heart was filled with gratitude to be able to return to her family; Root’s head was consumed with anger at the man’s carelessness. The street camera that the Machine accessed clearly showed he was going above the speed limit and could have easily hurt her wife.

The sun had risen, but the diner where the driver sat had few customers. A large explosion in the back of the joint would cause most people, including the owner, to rush to the back windows to see what had happened.

This gave Root the perfect opportunity to slip into the booth where the man sat. She told him she had seen the footage of his carelessness.

“Hey, that broad was walking into the street!” he said defensively.

“That woman…,” Root said, getting up and leaning over, “…Is my wife.”

He didn’t think the tall, slender woman was any threat, so he didn’t put his hands up to stop the needle that suddenly shot into his neck.

“What the hell…?” he said, feeling the pain and grabbing the injection site.

“It’s okay, Bill,” Root said, getting up from the table. “You won’t feel a thing,” she smiled as she straightened out her jacket and started to walk away. “Oh,” she said, turning back. “But in twenty minutes, you’re going to puke your brains out and have to be admitted to the hospital where they’ll test your blood and find out you’re a drug addict. That won’t look good on your record and you’re going to be fired,” Root summed up for him. “People like you shouldn’t drive.”

Then, as the other patrons looked out the other window, Root left as quietly as she entered – as Bill slipped into a very unhealthy state.

As promised.

Root didn’t mind when Shaw messed with her friends, but no one – and Root meant _no_ _one_ – messed with Shaw.


	14. Let's Talk - Now!

Shaw’s nerves were just calming down as she entered the elevator to their apartment.

“I think we hit every red light,” Fusco said, uneasy with the quietness. “I’ve never seen it like that. _Every_ damn light.” He was surprised that Sameen was allowing him to come upstairs with her. He knew this meant her mind was elsewhere.

Those red lights were by design, and it afforded Root the time she needed to drive quickly to the diner and back. Oh, and load a syringe with a drug that would mask as an opioid in blood tests. That took a minute.

In spite of Shaw’s raw nerves, she was so attuned to her wife, that little got past her. Root rushed at her, back seconds before they arrived. “Are you okay?” she said, hugging Shaw gently, and then putting distance between them so she could survey her. “Nothing broken?”

Now usually, this is when Shaw would say that Fusco falling on her could have broken every bone in her body, but something caught her eye and she was distracted.  
“Is Michael okay?” she asked Root.

“Yes, of course. The question is – are you two okay?” Root said and now she looked at Lionel. “Thank you,” she said and hugged the man.

“Sonova bitch, came outta nowhere,” he repeated because he didn’t want his friend to think she could have done something differently. “I didn’t get a license plate, but I’ll see what I can find.”

_The good detective would find reports of a truck driver rushed to the hospital and his license plate would match that of the one given by an anonymous female witness who would report she saw the whole thing. That’s what Lionel would find._

Shaw suggested he stay for breakfast, but he thanked her and said he wanted to get ready for work. He hugged them both and left.

* * *

“Oh, Sweetie,” Root said and pulled Sameen into her again. “I am so glad you’re okay.”

“Where have you been?” Shaw asked and put her hand on the syringe that was sticking out of Root’s jacket pocket.

“Oh,” Root said and paused.

It didn’t take Shaw long to come up with some possible scenarios. “We hit every red light,” Shaw repeated and Root started to walk backwards into the living room.

“Now, Sameen,” Root said, knowing she was caught red-handed.

“Do you know the odds of catching every red light at that hour of the morning?” Sameen asked, drawing it out. “Any idea?”

“Sweetie, I…,” Root said, still retreating.

“Did you use your robolord friend to find him, Root?” Shaw asked and her tone was unpleasant.

“Sameen…,” Root pleaded and then remembered how angry she had been. “He could have killed you! So, yes!”

“Did you…?” and Sameen stopped because she didn’t think Root would kill him, but she wasn’t sure what the needle had been filled with.

“I made sure he wouldn’t be careless like that again,” Root cryptically explained.

“You left Michael… to exact your revenge?” Sameen asked because she knew with the baby, rules had changed, but she wasn’t quite clear on what they were now.

It was a question; _not_ an accusation – but it inflamed the fear of losing Shaw that Root felt when she thought about the whole incident. She went from retreating - to aggressively grabbing Sameen’s forearms with her hands.

“I can’t lose you!” Root shouted – louder than was necessary. “No one hurts you, Sameen. I will never let anyone get away with hurting you. NEVER!” Root said loudly, and tears choked her. “Never,” she repeated, and pulled Shaw into a breath-suppressing hug.

It was so fast; Shaw didn’t have time to prepare to have the air in her lungs pushed out. “You’re… _actually_ …hurting me,” she said, more surprised than Root that she could do that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Root said, loosening the grip, but not letting her go. “I was so afraid at just the thought.”

“I know; me, too,” Shaw admitted when she realized how close she had been.

“Lionel...,” Root said and wanted to say how she felt so indebted to him for being so quick.

“I know; I am going to owe him for the rest of my life,” Shaw complained. “Like, forever now,” she said as if that was ever in question.

Root thought everything was okay for a second, until Sameen took her by the arms. “Look at me,” Shaw said in a voice that was supposed to intimidate Root, but instead sent excitement through her body. “You can’t go exacting revenge every time something happens.”

“Yes, I can,” Root argued in an unprecedented turn of events. Even Sameen was taken aback.

“No, you… you can’t,” Shaw tried, a little slow on listing all the reasons.

Just then, Isabelle was walking with Michael into the living room, but upon hearing the parents, she quietly slipped back into the kitchen.

“I can, and I will,” Root stated vehemently – her tone crafted by some hormones that were raging through her body and firing her up. She was back to putting space between her and Sameen, but she was holding Shaw’s arms in a tight grip.

“What has gotten into you?” Shaw asked without thinking.

“What the hell does that mean?” Root asked defensively. She had defended her wife’s honor by tracking the man down who almost hit her with his vehicle. Where was the gratitude?

“Well, for one thing; you never say… _what the hell does that mean_ ,” Shaw pointed out.

“I was scared!” Root said – again.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw backed off because she could tell something was up. “Let’s just…uhm…take a deep breath and relax, okay? I’m okay, you’re okay, and Michael is probably in hiding,” Shaw thought out loud.

“We’re _not_ going to work,” Root said definitely.

“We’re not?” Shaw asked. “Okay…”

“And we’re staying here,” Root said because her emotions were playing havoc with her brain.

“Alone?” Shaw asked, because this erratic behavior was unnerving.

“With Michael and we’re going to talk about things,” Root blathered on.

“Oh, God,” Shaw murmured and forced a smile on her face when Root heard that. “I mean, good.”

* * *

Even the dogs didn’t believe her as they walked in on the tail end of the conversation.

‘ _Oh, oh_ ,’ Bear cautioned his protégé. ‘ _This is very unusual_.’

‘ _What is it_?’ Shadow asked.

‘ _Do you smell tha_ t?’ the olfactory expert asked the other olfactory expert.

‘ _What is that?_ ’ Shadow asked, because she’d never smelled it before.

‘ _Trouble; let’s go_ ,’ Bear said because he didn’t like it.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Root said, realizing that her actions had sidetracked them from what happened to Shaw.

“It’s okay,” Shaw said because she had no idea what was going on. “Let’s just sit down.”

“Yes,” Root said and pulled her closer when they sat on the couch. “You’re not hurt? Anywhere?”

“No, really,” Shaw said, feeling her ribs to see if anything felt bruised. “Fusco is in much better shape than I gave him credit for.”

“He didn’t hurt you?” Root asked, just to be sure.

“No, he braced himself over me,” Shaw said because he was that close that she could see what he did.

“Okay, I’m glad,” Root said and Shaw finally let out a breath. She chalked the irregular conduct on the heightened emotions of their morning.

Shaw wanted nothing more than to forget what happened. Root was going to help her do just that by jumping to the next topic on her list.

“Now, tell me why you want Michael to go to private school,” Root said, stroking Sameen’s arm.

Something instinctively told Shaw this was not the time to talk about it.

But, she wasn’t going to have much choice.


	15. The Time Root Didn't Feel Like Being So Reasonable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is in no way medically accurate - I just wanted to give Root a chance to not be so in control and logical. I wanted to show Root's 'changes', too and how she gets back.

Root told Shaw – in _no_ uncertain terms – to _stay_ \- while she went into the kitchen to get Michael. The canines had returned and Bear looked sympathetically up at Shaw. Root rarely gave him that command in that tone.

“I don’t know,” Shaw confessed when he gave her a look that asked what was going on. Even when you could describe Root’s behavior as erratic, it was never harsh. Shaw considered keeping up with her wife’s unpredictable nature as one of her favorite sports. But this was new, even for Sameen.

“There,” Root said, placing the baby seat with Michael in it, on the coffee table.

Michael looked from Root to Shaw and back. She, too, sensed something, but was completely unaware what it was. She just knew she didn’t like it – and expressed that dislike in a quivering lower lip.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Shaw leaned over and assured her. Michael’s expression all but read – ‘Really?’. Shaw picked her up and sat her on her lap. Strong arms surrounded her and made the baby feel secure. “Mommy is here,” she soothed her. “Everything is okay.”

“We need to talk about that, too,” Root said. “Are we both going to be _Mommy_?”

“What else…?” Shaw started to ask, but this wasn’t the time for the Q&A apparently, because Root interrupted her.

“I mean, if we’re both _Mommy_ , when she calls us, we won’t know who she means,” Root pointed out.

“I could be _Shaw_ ; I like _Shaw_ ,” Sameen tried to compromise, placing Michael back in her seat now that she was content.

Root’s head tilted as she considered that. “No,” she said without explanation.

“O…kay,” Sameen said slowly and gave Bear a sideways glance.

“We will come back to that,” Root said and Shaw had no reason to doubt she didn’t mean they would.

“Root, I’m a little tired…you know, from this morning,” Shaw pointed out. She considered going upstairs for a nap.

But her remark reminded Root that her wife didn’t just waltz in from a run in the park. And it brought up all those feelings again. “Oh, of course,” Root said, her voice full of concern. “Put your head here,” she said, pulling Sameen to put her head in her lap, “…while we talk.”

Apparently, this was _one_ of those rare instances where Sameen had no escape.

The advantage of having her head in Root’s lap was now Shaw could feel the tension her wife was experiencing through the strokes Root was placing on her head.

“It’s just…,” Root said and pressed down harder than usual, “… I don’t see the advantage of private school.”

That sounded like the opening line of a reasonable conversation. One that Shaw was ready to have. But when she went to answer, Root unconsciously pressed down on her head, refusing to allow her to raise it. “I mean, you attended private school, so perhaps you can enlighten me about the benefits. But the schools you sought out are elite. Who would her friends be? Would she truly experience all the richness of the public school’s diversity in an exclusive school?”

“I want her safe,” Sameen tried her first attempt at reasons why she wanted her there.

“Have not you read anything about English Boarding schools?” Root countered as her hand tugged gently on Sameen’s hair.

“I was thinking closer to home; more like… Uptown,” Shaw answered and was grateful Michael seemed to be falling asleep.

“She won’t know anyone there,” Root pointed out.

“She’ll make friends?” Shaw suggested, putting a positive spin on things.

“What kind of friends?” Root asked, suspiciously.

“Girls and boys?” Shaw guessed and heard Root scoff.

“The kind that buy their way into top schools? The kind whose parents have rich lawyers who can get them out of misdemeanors or the kind that will look down their noses at us for not having…,” Root ranted and her voice got louder and louder.

Shaw realized her wife was revealing her own view of what these families were like. “Wait a minute,” Shaw said and had to push hard to actually sit up. She turned and took Root’s hands in hers; mostly because she was afraid Root would wrestle her if she didn’t like that she was going to say. “What are you really afraid of? That we’re not good enough?” Sameen could hardly believe she was suggesting that Root had one fiber in her being of self-doubt. Tears welled up in those light brown eyes that were so often individual smiling vessels. It was easy to see where Michael got her quivering lip, as Root’s started to do the same.  
“What is it, Root? Tell me,” Shaw said softly.

“I…,” Root started as thoughts raced through her usually organized head.

Sameen waited, but nothing else came. “You…?” she prompted.

“I…,” Root repeated and Shaw leaned in and squinted, as if willing her wife’s lips to spill the answer to this mysterious behavior.

In reality, Root was being what we all are when our bodies are out of whack; she was being human. Her emotions were sloshing all over the place and in their turbulence; deep-seeded fears reared their ugly heads.

“I… can’t lose you,” Root sobbed. She hung her head into Sameen who put her arms around her.

“Root, there is nothing…anywhere… that could take me away. Most especially at a private school,” Shaw almost laughed, but realized this was not the time.

“This morning?” Root questioned, but was reminding Shaw.

“It didn’t happen, Root,” Shaw said, putting her finger under Root’s chin so she’d look up at her. “I know it was scary, but Fusco was there. And we’ll teach Michael to choose good people as friends, so that is she needs them, they’ll be there for her, too,” Shaw reasoned.

“I _want_ to be there for her!” Root demanded.

“Yes, of course you will,” Shaw quickly agreed.

“I don’t want _strangers_ being her friends,” Root declared.

Shaw considered quoting some famous author about how all friends were strangers once, but she was getting better at this tumultuous exchange. “We’ll screen them carefully,” she said instead.

“She’s not going away to college either,” Root stated as she desperately tried to quell her fear of loss by pulling in on any reins she thought she could.

“O..kay,” Shaw said, pulling Root into her and looking over at Michael. Shaw maneuvered on the couch until Root could now put her head down in Sameen’s lap.

“We can talk about all of this,” she tried to reassure Root.

“She’s not going,” Root reiterated, but her voice was softer as she gave into the emotional draining and closed her eyes.

“Okay,” Shaw said, bending over and kissing Root’s head. Her hand gently patted it as she wondered what it must look like in that cranium, with all those ideas swirling around. She imagined it looked like tornadoes.

The surge in hormones inside Root was stripping away her usual easy going nature and revealing her no so easy going desires.

“And I want egg salad for lunch,” Root murmured.

“Egg? Salad?” Shaw just had to question because she’d never seen her wife eat it, let alone request it.

Root’s head shot up as she stared at Sameen. Her expression was more fitting of having been denied a kidney to save her life rather than a question about her food choice.

“Egg salad it is,” Shaw said, pulling back slightly from the harsh glare those light brown eyes were piercing her.

“Thank you,” Root said, satisfied as she put her head back down. Root took a deep breath; a sign that perhaps she was finally relaxing, Sameen thought.

“I don’t ever want to be on your wrong side,” Shaw said, quite surprised to find out that Root even had one. She felt it was okay to reveal that because Root seemed to be sleeping soundly.

“Good,” Root said, drifting deeper into a much needed sleep.

Shaw looked over at Bear and felt comforted in the fact that, he, too, was surprised at this behavior. The difference was, Bear could escape.

* * *

Moments later, and what seemed like hours to Shaw, Isabelle appeared and asked how she could help. Shaw looked at her watch; it would be Michael’s feeding time, soon.

“Could you get some milk we have in the freezer?” Shaw asked quietly. “She’ll want me when she wakes up.”

“Michael?” Isabelle asked.

“Root,” Shaw replied quickly.

Isabelle returned just in time to pick the baby up and change her. Returning her to her seat, she placed her by Sameen who offered her the bottle. The baby wasn’t used to the bottle apparatus and much preferred her mother, but Sameen assured her it was the same milk.

“Let’s let mommy sleep,” Sameen suggested as Root’s head was still in her lap. “In fact, I strongly suggest it,” she whispered to the baby who laughed.

Ounces later, Michael needed to be burped and Isabelle returned to take her. “I thought you might need your strength,” the chef whispered to Shaw. There, on a plate, were three breakfast burritos – her own concoction for when Shaw only had one hand. Everything she loved, wrapped up in one delicious tube-like structure.

“I’m keeping you,” Shaw mumbled, with her mouth full.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Isabelle laughed quietly as she left.

Shaw ate quickly and then, with her wife still in her lap, dozed off to sleep.

* * *

For a good while, the house was very quiet.

And then, Ayala and Martine arrived. The sound of the approaching elevator bringing the guests made Shaw utter – “No, no, no,” because she wanted Root to sleep for as long as it took to get back to – well, being Root.

But Root was rested and woke up seconds before the doors opened.

“I think we have company,” Shaw informed her wife.

“Oh, good,” Root said and went to get freshened up.

“I thought we should have called,” Martine said, apologetically.

“No, it’s okay, come in,” Shaw said, getting up to greet them. “If anyone deserves to be here, it’s my sister,” Shaw said and Martine had no idea what she meant.

Moments later, Root returned and greeted everyone. She sounded like her old self. She brought Michael into see her aunts, who took her immediately. Sameen was surprised at how at ease her sister seemed to be around children.

“Have a lot of experience?” Shaw asked her sister.

“I’m _good_ with people,” her sibling assured her.

“Yeah, right,” Shaw said as Ayala handed the baby to Martine. She, too, much to Shaw’s surprised, seemed comfortable holding a baby.

“Lots of nieces and nephews,” Martine said to Shaw because she read her expression.

“I must have missed the memo when all of you were getting experience,” said the woman who never held a baby much before her own.

Root was watching the way Ayala bit her bottom lip when she gazed at Martine holding the baby. “Tempting?” she asked her sister-in-law.

“She makes it so,” Ayala confessed because there was something about those iron-rod arms holding a baby that turned her on. “I should get her one of those.”

“Well, you can’t get them on Amazon,” Shaw informed her sibling.

“Maybe I could borrow…?” Ayala tried to ask her sister to share.

“Absolutely not,” Shaw declared, arms crossed. “I wouldn’t give you Bear,” she added, and insulted them both. Bear was louder than her sister in letting her know.

Martine was talking to Michael, who was all smiles. “Are you guys getting any sleep?” she asked because she often watched her sister’s kids when they were up all night.

“Barely,” Root admitted.

“We can babysit, anytime you want,” Martine said.

“That’s right; we’ve been certified,” Ayala said proudly, having taken Sameen’s mandatory course.

“Your psych evaluation isn’t back yet,” Shaw quipped.

“We’ll even take Shaw off your hands if that will help,” Ayala teased.

“No!” Root said and drew stares because it was obviously a joke; but she was dead serious.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, patting Root’s leg to assure her.

The elevator was approaching again with yet another guest.

“Seriously, do they just let anyone up here?” Shaw balked and then turned to Martine. “Not you,” she assured her friend.

“Oh, thanks,” her sibling replied.

Sameen was very much aware that her wife was still a little off balance and she didn’t want anything else to tip her mood further. This is why she let out an explicative when the doors opened and in stepped their next guest. His face was obscured by the gift he carried, but everyone knew who it was.

“Oh, shit!” Shaw said and her sister tapped her hand.

“No cursing in front of the baby,” she lectured.

“Oh boy,” Martine said, thinking this wasn’t a good combination.

“What the hell, Cole? You couldn’t call?” Shaw said, standing up, and then noticed Root was approaching him now. She rushed to be right next to her wife.

“I…,” Cole was about to explain as he put the large box down.

“Sweetie,” Root said in her sweet voice, “…I asked Cole to come; didn’t I Cole,” Root said.

The man seemed very uncomfortable as he admitted: “Well, you sort of said I had to come. I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“Why?” Shaw asked and was open to anyone answering that question.

“You know,” Root smiled at Sameen, “…so you can clear up that _issue."_

Apparently, the nap did little to make Root focus, Shaw thought. Except, in Root’s mind; she was very focused. She was going down her to do list of things she and Sameen had to discuss.

And telling Cole the baby was _not_ named after him was high on her emotionally written agenda.

Surveying the trio and the awkwardness that draped over at least two of them, Ayala turned to Martine. “I’m so glad we picked now to visit,” she whispered.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” Martine warned her girlfriend.

“Plenty of time for that later,” Ayala gushed. “I want to see how this turns out.”


	16. One Day at a Time

Shaw recognized the expression on her old friend’s face. Not since they were trapped in Kabul had she seen it. _Sameen had refused to work with many an assigned partner because their fear showed too easily on their faces. ‘You can feel it; just don’t ever show it’ – was one of her mantras._ Standing with her former partner and her wife now, Sameen saw that look of fear in Cole’s eyes. He really had no idea what to do.

“So, where is the little... bugger,” Cole said, unsure of what the appropriate word was for baby. It wasn’t that.

“What?” Shaw snapped, first.

“Your kid? Your… baby?” he continued to guess.

“You didn’t buy firearms, did you?” Shaw asked because she had just found the one person who seemed to have less experience than she did.

“No!” he said defensively, but then squinted at Shaw to see if that was what she really wanted. “No,” he said, when he read that she didn’t; “… I got a computer!’ he said proudly.

“You bought a baby a computer?” Shaw asked, more curious than annoyed.

“What processor?” Root asked as a test of his knowledge.

“i7; quad processor,” Cole answered and Shaw heard his voice shake as if his life depended on the answer. One look at Root and Sameen understood his reaction.

“Nice,” Root finally smiled and took him by the arm. He had passed the first hurdle. He would get to meet the baby.

* * *

“You remember Sameen’s sister, Ayala; and our dear friend, Martine Rousseau? “ Root introduced everyone. “And this angel is our daughter.”

Root picked the baby up and brought her closer, which only seemed to make Cole more nervous. “She’s beautiful,” he said and made a mental note to call all babies ‘ _angel_ ’ from now on. He was quietly staring to see if the baby looked like Sameen. It didn’t take long, but something in the stare that Michael held the man in, reminded him of his former partner.

“What’s her name?” he asked because he thought that question showed the appropriate amount of interest.

“Here we go,” Ayala said softly to her girlfriend who nudged her hard.

“This is Michael Artan,” Root said in a very pleasant voice.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Michael Artan,” Cole said and asked if he pronounced her middle name correctly. “It means ‘ _Little Bear_ ’ in Gaelic, doesn’t it?”

His lack of knowledge of terms of endearment for babies didn’t bother Root. The inappropriate gift didn’t bother her. The fact that he knew what her daughter’s middle name meant – was starting to annoy her … a lot.

“Cole was stationed in Ireland for some time,” Shaw said, pulling Cole back a bit so she could put space between him and her wife.

“It’s a beautiful name,” he said smiling at the women who were all staring at him for different reasons.

“Yeah, here’s the thing, Cole,” Shaw said – ready to address this issue. “It was important to us that Michael help choose her own name…,”

“She picked it out of a hat?” Cole laughed and was the only one smiling. Even Bear cringed at how badly this guy was doing. The man cleared his throat and whispered ‘ _sorry_ ’. Shaw just looked at him incredulously.

“So, we were uptown walking when she saw this huge statue of _St. Michael_. We took her smile to mean that she wanted that name. So, you see, we had no one in mind when we chose it; in fact, Michael chose it – really – so I thought it was important that you understand that,” Shaw rattled on.

It actually took the man a second to decipher that. Since Sameen had never once addressed him by his first name, he simply didn’t think the name had anything to do with him. Eyes stared at him in anticipation of his response.

“Oh!” he finally said – because he detected a certain assertiveness in Root that wasn’t there before. “I always thought Shaw thought my whole name was Cole; so I …no, I would never have thought there was any connection,” he said much to everyone’s relief.

“We just didn’t want a misunderstanding,” Root smiled, but in her voice was a tone of declaration.

“I’m glad we… could… you know, clear it up. Not that there was anything to clear up,” Cole faltered. “You know, just glad.”

There was a part of Sameen completely in awe of how Root could disarm a person and make them rattled, simply by her voice and expression. Cole wasn’t acting. He was truly nervous. That was badass in Sameen’s book. A little nerve-racking; but badass.

Silence filled the air as Root searched the man’s face to make sure he meant every word. He did.

“So, I’m still in your… the apartment,” he said to Sameen.

“My what?” Shaw said and Root liked that she had to be reminded she once lived in a hell-hole before she lived with Root.

“The place downtown? That hell hole of an apartment you once lived in? It’s home now,” Cole explained.

“Oh, yeah; you were the uninvited guest,” Shaw said.

“Well, your landlord gave me a lease and now I’m there,” Cole said even though everyone sort of knew that.

“My mother keeping you busy?” Shaw asked, because she knew he was the hired hand for Azar.

“Your? Mother? “ he scoffed as best he could. “I’m doing private security work now.”

“Right,” Shaw said, pursing her lips.

“Well, thanks for inviting me, Root,” Cole said when he saw things were a little calmer. “She’s beautiful, but then…,” and the polite mas was going to say something about having such beautiful mothers, but he decided to leave while he still had the chance.

“I’ll walk him to the door,” Root said, handing Michael to Sameen.

“Really?” both Shaw and Cole said together.

“I won’t bite,” Root smiled and took him by the arm.

Shaw wasn’t the only one who considered that biting wasn’t the only way to hurt a man.

* * *

In those few steps, Root considered why she found this man to be a threat. Fusco spent more time with Sameen and she didn’t feel threatened by him. Of course, the more she thought about it, the more she realized it had little to do with them.

“Thank you for coming today, Cole,” Root said in much friendlier tone.

“Sure,” he smiled as they waited for the elevator to arrive.

“You’ve been a good friend to Sameen,” Root said, as if she were listing her thoughts.

“Shaw? Yeah, I’d like to think so. But hey, you know, if you ever need me, I’d be there for you and Michael, too,” he said because the man possessed a natural charm.

Root was calm enough to take in his sincerity and smiled back. “Thank you, Cole,” she said as the elevator door opened.

He smiled as he got on and waved back to Shaw as the door closed.

* * *

Root stood there a second, her head down, her right foot tapping slowly as she thought things through. She had impulsively given into her deepest fears that day, and Sameen had stayed with her – through every twist and turn. She looked back at her wife, standing there with their daughter – and quite literally – fell in love more with Sameen.

“Would you mind taking Michael for a short walk?” she asked Ayala and Martine.

“Sure,” they both answered enthusiastically.

“But…,” Shaw stared, “…there’s only two of them.” Her defensive class specifically put them in three’s.

“Bear and Shadow can go,” Root said and Sameen decided that was okay.

“You’ll watch them, right?” Shaw asked Martine as they placed the baby in the stroller and secured her in.

“Yes,” Martine assured her friend and knew she meant the baby, her sister and the dogs. Maybe not in that order.

The couple was elated to be granted clearance and descended in the elevator for the maiden voyage.

* * *

Shaw thought pacing the living room until they got back might be a good idea, but Root had asked them to leave on purpose.

“Come here,” she said to Sameen in a much calmer voice, although Shaw wasn’t entirely sure. “I want to apologize,” Root started and Sameen tried to dismiss it, but Root placed her finger on Shaw’s lip. “I need to tell you this,” she explained. Root’s mind had been processing what was going on since her first meltdown. She knew she was acting impulsively, but she needed to understand why.

She pulled Sameen to the couch so they could face one another. “I know what’s going on,” she said, and Sameen actually looked relieved. “The post partem hormones are causing a lot of this.”

“Oh, thank God,” Shaw said, just happy to hear it was temporary.

“But they’re not the real reason,” Root said, dashing Shaw’s hopes of an easy solution.

“Are you sure?” she asked, “…because you’re usually very stable. Not to say you’re not stable,” Shaw fumbled.

“I’ll give you the short answer,” Root smiled because it was the least she could do for her understanding wife. “I forgot that the one thing in life that I can always trust and count on – is you.”

Shaw listened carefully because she was certain Root was going to explain the biological causes to her mood swings. “Of course you can.”

“I know that, but sometimes, when I’m in touch with some old stuff – old fears, things that came along long before you, it gets clouded and I panic,” Root said truthfully.

“Hey, I know about _old_ stuff…,” Shaw laughed, but Root was still all over the place. She lunged at Sameen, locking lips and pushing her down on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” Root said, and tears rushed from her eyes and dripped on Sameen’s cheek.

“Root, no,” Shaw said, putting her arms around her and pulling her in to a strong hug. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I did all that – Cole and school – the same day you were almost …,” she listed but couldn’t say it. Her body tremored in Shaw’s embrace.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Shaw soothed her. “That was scary, for all of us. But I’m here and I’m okay and I’m with you.” The more Shaw squeezed Root; the safer she felt.

“I’ve just been acting…,” Root said, her head buried in Sameen’s shoulder now.

“That was no act,” Shaw gently teased as only she could. “Root, your body has been through a major ordeal; and even though we got the best gift; the whole thing has been hard for you. So, let’s give you some time, okay?”

Shaw’s words were assuring Root that no matter what she acted like, she’d be by her side. “You are so understanding,” Root said of her wife’s thoughtfulness.

“We’re a family, Root; we’re in this together,” Shaw whispered to her wife.

Root cried a little more and it hurt Sameen’s heart, but she held onto her, knowing this is what she needed.

“I didn’t think I could love you more, Sameen Shaw,” Root whispered. "But I do."

“That’s Sameen Shaw-Groves,” Shaw teased and made Root smile.

“I do like that name,” Root said, snuggling even closer, as her body draped her wife’s.

“I do, too,” Shaw said, glad that Root was feeling better.

* * *

Moments passed without either saying anything as they both enjoyed the comfort of each other’s body. “We’re going to be okay, Root,” Shaw said because she, too, have felt the upheaval of being a new parent.

Just then, they heard the elevator approaching. “See that?” Shaw said, assuring Root. “We just lived through Michael’s first outing.”

“Yes,” Root smiled because Shaw had a way of making her feel so much better.

“Now, God help my sister if Michael isn’t smiling when they come in,” Shaw said only slightly teasing.


	17. Following Orders

Just that short time alone with Sameen was enough to settle everything that was unsettled in Root. She wasn’t shoving things back under the proverbial rug; she was feeling safe and loved with them out. It was one of many gifts of their relationship; to feel exposed in front of one another and secure. Shaw didn’t move until Root felt ready to sit back up.

Then, they waited for Michael to return.

If Martine hadn’t been with them, surely Sameen would have been downstairs by now. It did seem like it was a long time, when in reality, it was less than an hour.  
But it was the first time the baby had been away from the parents for so long.

“When did they leave?” Sameen asked, pacing.

“I think it was only an hour ago, but it feels like they left Tuesday,” Root smiled because she was feeling it, too.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, trying to remain calm.

“Sweetie, I _may_ _have_ programed the Machine..,” Root was confessing when Shaw yelled, “Good! That’s good.”

Whipping out her phone, she accessed an app and showed Root. “Look, there’s a GPS tracker in the carriage,” she said proudly.

Root was impressed with Shaw’s ingenuity, but it did raise another concern.

“We’re not…,” Root said slowly, hoping she wasn’t too late. “You know…,” she wanted Shaw to fill in the blank.

“We’re _not_ …what?” Shaw asked, giving up.

“We’re not putting a tracker... _in_ … Michael, right?” Root asked and felt funny even asking it, but she had to make sure.

Shaw hadn’t thought about it and was now trying to decide if that was a good idea. Then, she remembered what it felt like. “No, absolutely not,” she concurred.

* * *

The elevator door opened and both mothers ran to greet their baby. Both were on their knees in front of the carriage, cooing and welcoming Michael back. Shaw was picking up her legs and arms to inspect her.

“She had two of each, right?” her sister teased when she realized what Sameen was doing.

“Is she happy, does she look happy to you?” Shaw asked Root, to make sure. “Are you okay?” she asked Michael and the sound of Shaw’s voice made her smile.

“She’s perfect,” Root concurred.

“Are you two going to be this crazy over all your kids?” Ayala asked sincerely.

“We’re…,” Shaw barked and Michael laughed. “New at this.”

“Go with it, Shaw; go with it,” her younger sister advised and if it weren’t for the fact that it was very sound advice, Sameen might have argued.

“Thanks so much,” Root said to the babysitters.

“Did we pass?” Ayala asked and she sort of, kind of, meant it.

“Yeah, I guess,” Shaw said, looking at the wheels on the carriage to make sure no one was speeding with the baby in it.

Martine cleared her throat which was girlfriend code for not wanting to overstay their welcome. “We have to go,” Ayala said on cue. “Mommy is having a small gathering of hoi polloi to dinner tonight.”

“What does that mean?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“I don’t know; a bunch of people involved in local politics,” Ayala answered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Do you _actually_ talk to that woman?” Shaw asked harshly and Root picked Michael up to assure her all was okay. Michael had decided it was as soon as she reentered her home moments before.

“Yeah, when I’m there,” Ayala said defensively.

“How often are you there?” Shaw demanded to know.

“Well, since you made me move back in with her, I’m there a few times a week. I do have a life, Shaw,” Ayala informed her sister.

Needless to say, her sister wasn’t interested in excuses. “You have _one_ job; _one_!”

“Look, sis; I’m not my mother’s keeper. I mean, I talk to her and I go with her to a lot of these boring meetings. I… _we_ … have dinner with her – but it’s not like she tells me everything she’s doing. “

“Well, I’ll talk to her about that,” said the woman who believed she was in charge of all things.

“Maybe we can have her to dinner,” Root suggested, knowing her wife was easier to deal with over food.

“You know your Machine talks to her, right?” Ayala said.

Now, Root _sort of_ knew this; Sameen had been too busy to remember the umbilical cord that existed between her mother and the Machine.

Sameen turned and looked right at Root for confirmation. “I am not exactly surprised, Sweetie. We’re teaching the Machine relational parameters and she’s probably using Azar as her focal point.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Shaw asked the only person she trusted about the AI.

“Yes,” Root said, but she’d run some tests later to see how often the Machine was reaching out.

“How come we weren’t invited to this dinner?” Shaw asked, getting back on track.

“Because you have a baby now,” Ayala theorized. “And besides, you eat all the food at these things,” she teased her sibling.

“I want to know what goes on there tonight,” Sameen made clear.

“Yes, sir!” Ayala said, saluting her sister. “Do you know your mother thinks she’s in charge? If you turn out to be the oldest, don’t treat your younger siblings like this, ok?”

“Time for you to go,” Shaw said, lifting her sister under the arm and away from Michael.

Root watched as Michael’s eyes locked onto the two sisters. It was as if she could see the baby processing all the information that she was taking in. Finally, after deciding it was okay; she broke out into a big smile and laughed.

“She likes me!” Ayala decided.

“She likes when I boss you,” her sister corrected her.

The women said their goodbyes, but not before Shaw reminded her sister that she wanted a full report tomorrow on the dinner.

“Will you be at work?” Ayala asked.

Shaw looked over at Root before answering. The slightest nod of Root’s head meant she was okay with them all returning tomorrow. “Yes, I’ll be there. So, come early and bring coffee.”

The women left to go back uptown.

* * *

“Do you think my mother is up to something?” Shaw asked as Root took Michael upstairs for her bath.

“I have no reason to think that,” Root said honestly.

“Really? After all this time you don’t know that that woman is always up to something?” Shaw asked incredulously.

The two women maneuvered the small bathtub and while Shaw filled it with warm water, Root undressed Michael. She lifted the baby into the water as Sameen readied the soap. The baby squealed with delight at her surroundings.

“Do you think Grandma is up to something?” Shaw asked in a sing-song voice as she gently rubbed the facecloth over Michael’s legs.

Michael _may have_ been reacting to the water cooling as she sat there; or she _might have_ just been learning that when she did this, her mother reacted. Or… _maybe_ she was telling Sameen what she really thought.

Whatever the reason was, the baby stopped smiling and stared right at Sameen and screamed loudly. She wasn’t upset and she immediately went back to smiling and splashing.

Sameen looked right at the baby and then up at her wife.

“We better get in early tomorrow,” she said to Root.


	18. Necessity is the Mother of Invention

The next morning, Michael watched as her mother anxiously raced around getting ready to get to work. She enjoyed the animation of Sameen as she grabbed coats, diaper bag, bottles, and anything else the woman thought they needed. There was something soothing to the baby as she watched her other parent stand there calmly and smile. They were certainly different; but she loved them both.

By the time they got to BEAR, Sameen was more settled as they set Michael in her carriage and proceeded to go inside.

“Hold that elevator!” a familiar voice shouted and Sameen did.

Zoe Morgan – looking chic as usual – rushed inside. “Oh, I was afraid I’d miss it,” she said out of breath.

“Miss what?” Root asked as Zoe leaned down and said hello to Michael.

“She looks like both of you; it’s amazing, but she really does,” Zoe said.

The parents exchanged a knowing, secret look. “Missed what?” Root repeated.

“You don’t know?” Zoe asked, standing up and looking at Shaw.

“You know, if I wanted to play twenty questions, I’d have asked Fusco to meet me here, but I didn’t, because I don’t,” Shaw made perfectly clear – the long way.

The elevator reached Root’s floor and everyone got out. “I’m waiting,” Zoe informed them as Shaw helped her wife get the baby settled in her office. She kissed them both goodbye and came back out.

“You know, Morgan; I took you for kind of normal. But lately, you’re like a card carrying member of this three ring circus,” Shaw felt it necessary to point out.

“The beauty of all of this, Shaw; is that you have _no_ idea you’re the Ring Master,” Zoe said, pressing the button for the elevator.

Sameen stared hard at the woman all the way into the elevator, but to no avail. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know,” Zoe said and got off with Shaw on her floor. “That’s why I can’t wait.”

* * *

Zoe could have told Sameen how she helped postpone this interrogation until this morning, but she didn’t want to spoil the plot. And the plot was thickening as they strolled down the hallway to Shaw’s office.

“SHAW!” Sameen heard a familiar voice call out to her from the conference room. She turned slowly to see Cole sitting in the chair with an alarmed expression on his face.

“What the hell?” Sameen said and approached the room.

“This is where it gets good,” Zoe said as if she were the commentator on this unfolding event.

“Cole?” Shaw said and it wasn’t his presence that surprised her, but the fact that he looked more afraid then he did when he was at their apartment.

“Now, we’ll get to the bottom of this,” Janine said and Shaw almost forgot that there was someone else in the room.

“Are you… is she… why?” Sameen asked as Zoe said hello and took a seat.

“I waited like you asked,” Janine said to the Fixer.

“I thought it was only fair,” Zoe said to everyone.

“Could _one_ of you tell me what’s going on? Wait, do I want to know?” Shaw asked, catching herself.

“We saw him leaving your apartment,” Janine said and she hooked her thumbs inside her belt; her body language clearing indicating she thought she was in charge. Shaw looked at her and wondered if Fusco had given her interrogation lessons because of her intense stance.

“Have you kept him here all night?” Shaw asked and cringed at how ridiculous a question that was. She had seen this man break out of prison cells.

“No!” Janine answered, as if it was out of the realm of possibilities. “We asked him to come back here this morning.”

“You didn’t really give him a choice,” Zoe stopped the conversation to point out.

Janine all but dissolved into a blush. “That’s true,” she smiled, happy her friend was so impressed.

_Zoe was more than impressed. She had seen the small woman rush up to Cole and pin him against the wall. Janine promised him she didn’t want trouble, but she had to make sure he was there by invitation. His light blue eyes pleaded with Zoe to rein in her friend, but she was too intrigued by it all._

“This is insane,” Shaw said as if she needed to announce that.

Hoping to help put her boss at ease, the overzealous assistant explained; “We know…,” Janine said and left it at that. What she wanted her boss to fill in is that they knew this guy might think Michael was named after him and of course she wasn’t. But Janine wasn’t sure Cole knew that and demanded he return this morning to make sure that was all cleared up.

“And you came _back_?” Shaw asked, more amazed at his behavior than her assistant’s.

“She knows where I live!” Cole said as if he were afraid she would have come to get him and drag him there. “Shaw..,” he pleaded – the way nice guys do when they’re involved with your crazy friends and want you to do something.

“Alright!” Shaw said because she was used to saving him from dangerous situations. “Cole was there by invitation…,” she explained and Cole cleared his throat in almost silent protest because he didn’t really have a choice about that invite either. “And… we cleared everything up.”

“So he knows?” Janine asked, squinting her eyes.

For a split second, Sameen toyed with the idea of leaving her former partner there as a true test of his torture endurance, but his light eyes begged that he had had enough. “Yes,” Shaw finally said. “I had to remind him what his first name was so I’m pretty sure there was no confusion about Michael’s name. I think you can release him,” Shaw said to her overenthusiastic assistant.

“O…kay; if you say so,” Janine finally agreed, but her head was bobbing up and down as she stared at Cole.

“That’s not a good look on you, Cole,” Zoe Morgan said and smiled.

“Right,” Cole said, getting up and glad the charade was over. “You owe me,” he made the mistake of saying to Shaw as he was about to leave. Of course, he meant – for putting up with the crazy people in her life. It had been a hellova few hours for the former operative.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Shaw cautioned him because she knew that benign threat would spring Janine back into action.

As soon as Cole saw the petite woman make her move, he hurried out of the conference room. “Let’s get one thing clear,” Janine was lecturing him as she followed on his heels.

Zoe was hysterical and dabbed the corner of her moist eye with a tissue. “She’s something else,” she said and didn’t want to admit how the woman’s fierceness, though mostly harmless, was a turn on. Or perhaps it was the unequivocal devotion to Shaw that intrigued her. She had never seen anything like it.

“You shouldn’t encourage her,” Shaw noted to Zoe.

“Me? I stopped her from chewing him up,” she said, defensively. “She had him pinned up against the building!”

“What is she – a _Fixer_ in training?” Shaw wondered out loud; questioning what Zoe’s motive was.

“Shaw,” Zoe said, getting up from the chair and standing in front of her. “You can’t teach what people like you and me do. It’s innate; it’s an odd mixture of talents. No, Janine is in a class by herself.”

“You know, in spite of the crazy overtone to this little get together, I couldn’t help but notice how warmly your greeting was to Cole,” Shaw shared because she picked up on it.

First, Zoe tried the old – ‘ _You’re not jealous, are you, Shaw_?’ - but that didn’t even reach across the short distance between them.

“Here’s my guess,” Shaw said and her tone indicated it was the kind of guess she’d put a lot of money on because she was so certain. “I think you and Cole have been employed by the same person in the past,” she said carefully watching Zoe’s reaction. “…And might still be on her payroll.”

Zoe was good – she rarely flinched. Shaw was better – and didn’t need a full flinch to tell her she was right. There was something in the Fixer’s eyes that told Shaw the connection between the three still existed.

“I’m a Fixer, Shaw; you know that.  Lots of people need my help,” was all Zoe would say as she made her way out of the room.

Sameen wasn't worried about lots of people; just one. 

She watched her friend walk down the hallway and stop to talk to Janine. She shook her head and decided, now would be a good time to find her sister. She didn’t have to look far. She went to Martine’s area and there she was.

* * *

“Coffee?” Martine offered as if she had been expecting Sameen.

“Sure,” Shaw said, sitting down and taking the cup. “You see?” she said to her sister. “This is how you treat friends.”

“I’ll make a note,” Ayala smiled.

“So?” Sameen said after waiting a second for her sister to start.

“So, there were all these people when I got home. It seems mommy is getting in with the political powers that be in New York. To what end, I don’t know. I was tired, so I went upstairs,” her sister said.

Sameen looked at Martine as if looking for sympathy for having such an ineffective operative for a sister. “Did you _happen_ to hear her talking to anyone in particular?”

“Yes, the mayor,” Ayala updated her sister.

Martine was almost certain she could hear crickets. “Tell her what you heard,” she prompted her girlfriend.

Shaw smiled her thanks.

“She warned him… in a joking manner, but I know her better than that; that he should be careful, or one day she’d take his job,” Ayala reported.

“She wants to be Mayor?” Shaw asked, confused.

Her sister shrugged her shoulders; not really concerned with her mother’s aspirations.

Sameen knew this really wasn’t a question for her sister. She had to ask someone who could get inside her mother’s head; someone who might understand how that mind works and what it might be up to.

She needed to ask Root.


	19. Mother Knows Best

As soon as Root heard that Sameen wanted her input on what she thought her mother was up to; she decided it was a topic left best for after dinner. That didn’t mean Sameen didn’t try to bring it up, but each time, Root segued into something else.

“ _Look_ at what she can do,” she said, pulling Sameen’s attention to their daughter. Root put the rattle in Michael’s hand and she grasped it.

“Did you see her hit the toys before?” Sameen noted when she was on the floor. “She could play for the Yankees with that swing!”

“Do you want to play for the Yankees?” Root asked and her sing-song voice made Michael smile widely.

Root’s distraction technique worked and it wasn’t until Michael was asleep and they were sitting on the couch, did she get back to the answer.

“Okay, so one Brainiac to another; what is she up to?” Shaw posed her question.

“Why, thank you,” Root said and kissed Sameen’s dessert laden lips. “Mmm, strawberry.”

“Do you know what it will be like if that woman becomes Mayor? I mean; why Mayor? What does that get her?” Shaw wondered out loud, biting into another large chocolate covered strawberry.

Root may have politely declined the dessert, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to taste it on her wife’s lips. “Well,” she started and kissed Sameen before continuing; “…maybe power is her thing.”

Shaw could tolerate the interruption to her eating, but she wasn’t so patient about not getting a precise answer. “Really?” she asked and meant – is that your best answer.

“I would think your mother is securing her future; something she wasn’t able to do for many years,” Root theorized. “What do you think she’s doing?”

It was a fair question, but not one that Shaw had the answer to, just yet. “I don’t know,” she said, looking out the window as they snuggled. “But she’s up to something, I just know it.”

For someone whose mother was not with her most of her life, Sameen had this sixth sense about the woman’s actions – and most of that was based on suspicion.

“Let’s just say for a minute, she wants to be Mayor. How does that sit with you?” Root asked, playing with her wife’s long strands of hair that framed her face.

“It does not sit well with me,” Shaw immediately answered.

“Because of the attention or the pressure on her?” Root guessed.

“Because she’s cleared to do babysitting; and when will she have time to do that if she’s running the City?” Shaw explained. “It’s selfish, if you ask me.”

“Oh, I see,” Root smiled, thinking she should have thought of that.

“Well, we’ll just tell her she can’t then,” Shaw decided since both of them agreed.

“Can we…?” Root was proposing it wasn’t up to them when Sameen turned and looked up at her.

“I didn’t invest in all that training so she could decide she wanted another career,” Sameen pointed out. “This is the problem with retired operatives; they get antsy,” were the words out of her mouth before she realized how they sounded.

“Oh?” Root commented immediately and there was a ‘ _do tell_ ’ tone to her question.

“I mean some of them. Like Cole, right? He’s never going to be happy doing private security. He’s always going to be looking for his next undercover, covert assignment. It’s a thrill thing. Like junkies, you get hooked.”

If that was supposed to explain it and make Root feel better; it didn’t. And Shaw knew it.

“Do _you_ …?” Root was asking when Sameen decided it was time to dig herself out of the hole she somehow was in.

“NO!” she said, getting up to face Root. “Not me; Not I – none of us,” she said, unsure of which was grammatically correct. “I have something else in my life; something I want to be there for and so I don’t have to keep hiding or running.”

“Nice save,” Root said smiling to her wife. “Because I’m not letting you go back to that life; unless you take me.”

This was another thing Shaw just loved about Root. She never said no; she just insisted on being there with her.

“Deal,” Shaw said and kissed Root’s lips.

“So, am I part of that thing you want to be there for?” Root asked even though she knew the answer.

“You?” Shaw questioned. “Yeah, I mean, I meant Isabelle, but you? Sure, you, too….,” she teased until Root grabbed her and applied pressure to the exact spots that caused Sameen to laugh. “Root, stop!” she pleaded, but she wouldn’t.

“What…kind…of…ROOT! … operative will I be if I’m ticklish? ROOT!”

“Say ‘ _Uncle_ ’,” Root threatened and kept the gentle pressure up.

Shaw stopped and looked right into her wife’s light brown eyes. “ _Uncle_ ,” she said, but it wasn’t a surrender as much as it was a declaration that she would do whatever Root wanted.

And Root knew it.

She leaned down and kissed the head that lay in her lap. “I’m so crazy about you,” Root whispered to her wife. Before Sameen could declare – anything – Root lowered her head again, unable to postpone the touch. The fire she needed was there – in her wife’s lips – and heat poured through both of them. Within seconds of devouring Sameen’s mouth, Root found the same hunger she felt. She pressed her head down; Sameen pushed her head up; as if they couldn’t get enough of each other’s mouths.

They broke only when they couldn’t breathe and when their bodies needed to be released from clothing that strangled their skin. In unison, they undressed and returned to their horizontal positions – the way two pieces of molded sculpture seamlessly fit together. Root needed to feel that smooth, toned body on top of her; Sameen’s full breasts pushing down on her. Shaw needed to touch and taste Root’s neck, until a trail of soft bites left her breathless.

Root’s desire to pull was matched by Sameen’s desire to push, and the gentle struggle only raised the surge of fire within them. Sameen’s leg was between Root’s now and the gentlest of pressure caused Root to moan out loud. Sameen's slow motions teased and caused a fire to build slowly before she sat up; her hands seeking out the curve of Root’s waist. She leaned over; her hands now spreading out as she carefully touched the silken skin of Root’s breasts.

Root’s hands were sliding down Sameen’s back to her toned buttocks. She could feel Sameen’s skin get hot as she touched and cupped her. Fingers slid between her thighs and Shaw drew in a quick breath. The excitement in Root grew when she felt how ready Sameen was for her. She touched the delicate, aching flesh as Shaw steadied herself for the impending explosion. “Root!” she cried as the exact spot that held the tension was touched over and over again. “Yesssss!” Shaw confirmed unnecessarily because her wife knew exactly where they were in the climax.

Sameen was barely coming down when her hand sought out to share that pleasure with Root. She would not wait and knew Root was already teetering. “I want you so badly,” Shaw said, drawing her body down the length of Root until she could administer the softest manipulation that brought Root to new heights before causing her to crash in a magnificent eruption. Nothing brought Shaw more pleasure than being able to please Root.

The long night of tender lovemaking washed any concerns Shaw had aside. Her mother could have been made Pope, and her attention wouldn’t have strayed from touching Root.

Lost in each other’s arms now, the two slept peacefully and soundly.

At least until two A.M. anyway.

* * *

It would take Sameen until breakfast that next morning for her original thoughts to return. But this time around, it would be easier.

Azar was there.

As if sensing her older daughter’s concern and need for answers, she was sitting having coffee that Isabelle had offered her. When Root came in with Michael, she jumped off her chair and greeted them.

“ _Asheghetam_ ,” Azar said in her native tongue, telling Michael that she loved her.

“You’re just the person I wanted to talk to,” Shaw said and meant after coffee because she hated to communicate before a few sips.

“I know,” Azar said, making Shaw stop what she was doing and stare.

“Better make it a double,” Sameen said to Isabelle and the chef retrieved the larger mug.

“How are you, Azar?” Root asked as they all took places at the island in the kitchen.

“I have never been better,” the grandmother said and the fact that she was holding her grandchild had a lot to do with that.

Perhaps in an attempt to help her wife, Root noted that in analyzing the Machine’s activity, it was apparent that she had been reaching out to Azar.

Nothing threw this woman. And it annoyed her daughter that she was so calm.

“You are teaching her about humans and relationships,” Azar said as if she had been in on the planning. “It is only natural for her to test some of those theories out with me.”

“She’s _not_ my sister,” Shaw felt it necessary to point out.

Azar uttered something in Persian about not being silly. “Don’t tell me not to be silly,” Shaw said without realizing she understood her mother.

Both Root and Azar looked at her. Perhaps the phrases that her mother spoke to her as a child were coming back to her- now that she wasn’t so interested in blocking that period of her life out.

“Speaking of sisters, my human one is failing,” Shaw said, because she had enough coffee to form sentences now.

Isabelle slowly pushed a plate of freshly baked cinnamon buns in front of Sameen.

“Is that so?” Azar said as she played with Michael.

“Yes, she was supposed to keep an eye on you,” Sameen said bluntly as her sugar intake spiked. “DEZARESOGUD!”

Azar gave a knowing look to the woman who was in charge of her daughter’s sustenance. She knew exactly what the chef was doing, and smiled at her.

“Why do you want her to keep an eye on me?” Azar asked.

“Because we don’t trust you?” Shaw responded immediately.

“Is that true?” Azar asked and Root could sense that she was serious. So could Sameen.

“Well, yeah, sort of,” Shaw backtracked now that she heard her mother’s tone.

“Why wouldn’t you just come and ask me?” Azar proposed and made it sound so reasonable.

Root raised an eyebrow at Sameen. “We should have thought of that,” Root said, saving her wife from having to say it.

This was taking all too long for Sameen who wanted fast answers. “So, mother; what are you up to?” she smirked. “Running for Mayor?”

Azar stopped playing with her granddaughter and looked at Sameen. Then, she looked at Root to see if Sameen was serious. She quietly reflected on how her daughter might have come to this conclusion.

“Oh, I see,” Azar said and went back to tugging on Michael’s foot which made the baby laugh.

Sameen waited a full second before turning her waiting gaze from her mother to Root. “So?” she finally caved in.

Azar turned her attention back to her daughter. “Sameen, I assure you; at present, I have no political ambitions.”

For Root, the matter was settled. For Sameen, it was excruciatingly delayed.

“Why surround yourself with political people?” she asked.

“They have something we need,” Azar replied. Sensing her daughter was not going to let up and seeing that Isabelle was occupied in the pantry, the woman continued. “You and Root have a different priority than you did when the Machine choose Root. You will, at some point, need to be able to allow the Machine some autonomy. That’s what all these tests are about, are they not, Samantha?”

“Yes,” Root answered, intrigued with where her mother-in-law was going with this.

“Well, I am making connections with people who can share information about long forgotten networks within the City,” Azar explained.

“You want Root to let her loose in the City?” Shaw asked incredulously.

“She’s already out there in the cameras; traffic lights; data bases,” Azar said.

“You want to gain access to the city’s infrastructure?” Root asked.

“Someday, you may want to set her free,” Azar hypothesized. “And when that day comes; we will be ready.”


	20. If it's Not One Thing, It's Your Mother*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Totally borrowed this line

It was a rare occurrence for Root to see her wife so out of control; not of herself so much as the situation. And it seemed that whenever the two women met; her headstrong wife and her strong willed mother; the control was never shared. One of them always seemed to have the lion’s share.

At the moment, that was _not_ Sameen.

Root could tell Azar was going to give them only as much information as she wanted to; a fair amount that would appear like she was sharing, when in fact, she was simply updating. She might as well have announced – ‘ _Here’s what I want you to know’_ – but that would have sent one of them over the edge.

Sameen was busy trying to decide if she cared or not; when she realized what she really cared about was whether Root did. “So, are you okay with that opaque answer?” she asked her wife as she ate the next sugar drenched bun.

In a matter of seconds, Root’s glace told Sameen she had questions; and it also asked Isabelle to remove the rest of the morning dessert before her wife overdosed on sugar.

Isabelle had a feeling she knew what it was like for the lion tamer to approach at meal time. “Let me just warm…,’ she said, slowly removing the plate.

Before Sameen could tell her they were just the right temperature, Root answered. “I understand where you’re going with this, Azar; and I appreciate that you’re giving the future thought…”

“Don’t encourage her,” Shaw instructed her wife and then smiled at her mother. “What? You do tend to take the ball and run with it.”

“I’m not familiar with that expression,” Azar said, even though she understood her daughter perfectly.

“You’re suggesting that at some point after we’ve done testing, we might want to open the system up and free her,” Root summarized.

“Great, we’ll be bowing down to overlords like pawns,” Shaw grumbled.

“You don’t have faith in her?” Azar asked and Root wished she hadn’t. It set her wife off.

“Look, I think I’ve made it abundantly clear that there is only _one_ person I trust with all this high tech stuff and that’s Root! No offense, mother, but you’ve spent a lot of years doing things the way you wanted to; and we’re a family now, so you have to… think about that,” Shaw said, her voice trailing off at the end. She could tell by her mother’s expression that she was holding back her emotional reaction.

Azar was a wise and patient woman; who knew herself better than most people know themselves. She had years to reflect on her mistakes; her strengths and weaknesses.

Sameen thought she was declaring her undying trust for Root; but in that message, she was also reminding Azar that her trust wasn’t yet on solid ground. At least, not all the time.

But, like the diligent operative she once was – and the kickass grandmother she was becoming; nothing was going to distract her from doing what was best for her family.  
“I’m going to make options available to Root; it will be your decision to make use of them, or not,” Azar said, but her voice was softer; weighed down by the hurt she tried not to feel. She wanted very much to tell Sameen again – that she never stopped thinking about her family.

“We appreciate that,” Root said, aware of what was transpiring in the room.

“Mom…,” Shaw said, but Azar was saying goodbye to Michael. She hugged Root and then Sameen and said she would be in touch.

Shaw wanted her mother to stop; to give her a chance to explain, but she wasn’t sure how to. She said what she really felt; but she was sorry it upset her mother.

“Do you see?” Shaw threw her hands up in the air. “This is why you shouldn’t live _close_ to your families.”

Root let that suggestion hand in the air for a second. “I think we kept her here,” she pointed out. “Besides, she’s the only one with total clearance,” she reminded Sameen.

Root’s calm smile made Sameen pause. She’d deal with her mother later. For now, she’d enjoy being with Root and Michael. “What do you think?” Sameen said, to Michael as she sat in the infant seat. “Should I apologize to Grandma?” she asked, in a kidding way.

‘ _They know she can’t bark yet, right_?’ Shadow asked Bear because she found humans very confusing.

‘ _Talk; they talk_ ,’ he explained. ‘ _And I think they do it for affect. Like when we reduce people to babbling when we turn our heads sideways_.’

‘ _Oh_ ,’ Shadow said, sniffing around, looking for the source of that delicious cinnamon smell.

Michael liked this game where Mommy talked to her and if she yelled loudly, Mommy made a funny face. So – she did it; screamed for a short time at the top of her lungs – in response to Sameen’s question.

And right on cue, Shaw pulled back and frowned, and then turned to Root. “I think she’s on my mother’s side,” she interpreted.

“I think we should wait until she can utter syllables,” Root said, soothing Sameen with a kiss.

‘ _You want to do that_?’ Shadow asked when the two humans touched lips.

Bear turned and looked at her. ‘ _Now you want to imitate them_?’ he asked horrified.

‘ _I like the way she eats,_ ’ Shadow said in her own defense.

Bear shook his head vigorously and thought this was _not_ a good way to start his day.

It was perhaps for different reasons, but Sameen was thinking the exact same thing.

* * *

As the couple made the way to work later that morning, Sameen suggested that she could take Michael with her. She had a good reason for wanting to take her daughter that day. She didn’t even stop at her office, but walked down the hallway with Michael in the carriage.

“How do I explain this?” Shaw said out loud and directly to her daughter. “I think you’ll like her; she’s very helpful.”

With that, Sameen knocked on Dr. Campbell’s door and walked in. “She’s not usually busy,” she whispered to the baby and shrugged her shoulders.

“Sameen!” Iris said in the tone reserved for her favorite person.

“Are you busy?” Shaw asked, already assuming the answer.

“Not at all; come in,” Iris said, getting up and coming to see the baby. “Oh, she’s getting so big,” she said, getting down on her knees so she was on Michael’s level. “How are you?”

“She looks happy, right?” Shaw asked, but was certain Iris would agree. Michael was smiling and staring at Iris.

“She does indeed,” Iris agreed. “And how are you?” she asked again, because she was not easily distracted. She could tell her client was not there on just a social call.

“I just wanted you to see the proof – you know, that we’re doing okay,” Shaw said.

“Was it important to you that I see proof, as you call it?” Iris asked.

“She does this a lot,” Shaw whispered to Michael about the woman’s ability to turn the conversation back to her.

“Let’s sit,” Iris suggested and went back to her seat.

Shaw stood there for a minute, contemplating her choices. “Okay,” she said and wheeled Michael around to the couch.

Iris smiled again at the baby, but turned to look at her agitated friend. She didn’t say a word; giving Sameen all the time she needed.

“Just when I think I got this parenting thing down; it turns out I suck as a daughter,” Shaw explained.

“What makes you say that?” Iris asked concerned.

“Because my mother suddenly cares about what I think and I may have insulted her,” Shaw summed up.

“Oh,” Iris replied and sat back; a clear indication that it was incumbent upon Shaw to fill in the details. She was impressed that Sameen could pick up on her mother’s feelings and that she cared. “Tell me what happened.”

Sameen swore Michael looked at her as if to encourage her. “I swear Michael…never mind,” Sameen smiled, thinking one relative at a time.

As best she could, Sameen explained what happened. It was no easy task, considering she didn’t want to explain in detail what her mother was doing. She skirted the issue by saying that, given her mother’s technical training and background, she sometimes took things into her own hands to help Root.

“My statement that Root was the only one I trusted about these things didn’t go unnoticed,” Shaw said, pushing back on the couch as Michael dozed.

“Is it true?” Iris asked.

“Yes,” Shaw automatically answered. “No, I mean, yes, but… I just don’t trust anyone the way I do Root.” There, that was it!

“But does that mean you don’t trust anyone else?” Iris clarified.

“No,” Shaw said, hearing how it sounded.

“So, if your mother were going to propose something; you’d feel more comfortable hearing what Root thought,” the therapist said and made it sound simple.

“Yes,” Shaw agreed. “Yes,” she said again, because that was what she meant to say to her mother, but it didn’t come out that way.

And just when Sameen thought they had cleared that all up, Iris asked; “Is there any _other_ reason you find it difficult to trust your mother?”

Shaw was almost up off the couch when the question came. She sat back down. “I’m not going to lie, Doc. I’m trying with her. She may do things on her own and maybe she doesn’t consult me as much as I’d like; but she hasn’t really done anything to make me distrust her. It’s from before,” Shaw admitted.

“Trust is earned and built,” Iris said. “It takes time. The important thing is you’re trying.”

Sameen thought about that. “Yeah,” she said, understanding. “I guess…,” she sighed, “…I have to tell her that.”

Iris smiled at how quickly Sameen came to these conclusions on her own.

“She’s a good grandmother,” Shaw said in defense of her mother.

“I’m sure she is,” Iris smiled because she knew Shaw and Root wouldn’t accept anything less.

Shaw thanked Iris for the pep talk and took Michael back to her office.

The entire floor was put on notice not to make a sound about a whisper by Janine until Michael woke.

It was just the quiet Shaw needed to plan her next move.


	21. Mea Culpa

For a woman who had only recently learned how to apologize; one would think Shaw would remember how to do it. But she only found apologizing to Root easy. Anyone else was still a struggle for the impatient woman. She knew her mother was offended and her words were the cause; now all she needed to figure out was the fastest, shortest way for this mess to go away.

The absolute _last_ person Shaw should have sought advice from – was the first person she asked.

“Janine,” Shaw said after Michael was awake and the rest of the staff could actually take or make phone calls when the hush-order was lifted, “…let’s say you said something to upset me.”

Sameen should have known better than to play conjecture with the woman whose mission in life was to please her. That short hypothetical sentence sent the woman into a tailspin.

“What did I do? What did I do?” Janine jumped up from her seat to face her accuser.

“No, not you; I’m asking…,” Shaw tried to explain, but the horse was already out of the gate.

“Was it Cole? Did I rough him up too much? I mean, I didn’t think I was too hard on him,” Janine fretted.

“Cole?” Shaw asked confused.

“I figured he was used to interrogations, so I…,” the woman explained, indicating she leaned on him, by pushing her fist into her other hand.

“No, it wasn’t Cole,” Shaw said, trying to reel her back in. Imagine a fisherman trying to reel in a hundred pound tuna. “I just need to know…”

“Is it because I made everyone whisper? I told them Michael was sleeping and no one…,” the woman said in a frantic voice.

Sameen’s eyes were wide as she tried to figure out how to put this fire out. “Listen!” she said, taking the woman by her arms to face her. “You didn’t do anything. This is about me upsetting my mother.”

Janine did listen, but it took a minute for her to fully grasp she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What did she do?” Janine asked suspiciously.

“She’s been wining and dining…no, wait, this is about what I did,” Shaw said, getting them back on track.

“But you did it in reaction to something she did, right?” asked her defender.

“Well, yes, but…,” Shaw said, getting confused.

“So, why isn’t she apologizing to you?” Janine asked. Now, it was easy for her to turn things around because she never believed Shaw was in the wrong. But those sharp turns were disorienting to people dealing in reality.

Shaw tried to follow that logic, but couldn’t. “I just need to know how one apologizes…,” she was saying. “Not like what you just did...,” she clarified because she would never be able to pull that off.

“Oh, just say you’re sorry,” Janine said.

“That’s it?” Shaw asked because it almost sounded too simple. “I usually have to bring Fusco food when I apologize.”

“See? You already know how to do it!” Janine said in the tone of a second grade teacher congratulating her class on learning a social skill.

“Right!” Shaw said, happy she didn’t have to relearn something. “I can do this,” she assured the woman.

“I know you can!” her personal cheerleader said. “Do you want me to take Michael up to Root?”

“What?” Shaw asked.

“I figure you want to get this over with,” suggested the woman who knew how distasteful this was for her boss.

“Oh, yes, sure, okay, yes,” Shaw said.

With that, Sameen kissed her daughter goodbye and told her where she was going. Janine took full charge and brought her up to Root; explaining that Sameen went to see her mother. Root knew Sameen was bothered by what happened. She texted her right away and said she was thinking of her.

* * *

Shaw did go straightaway to her mother’s; semi-rehearsing what she wanted to say. It had to be short, to the point, and effective. It was the only way the short and to the point - woman knew how to be effective.

Alystair greeted Sameen at the door and told her Azar was in her study. Shaw approached and heard her saying goodbye to the Mayor.

“Could you get him to outlaw those bad bagel places?” Sameen asked when her mother waved her to come in.

“How nice to see you again,” Azar smiled and kissed Sameen hello. “Is Michael okay?” she asked, looking to see if she was there. “Root?”

“They’re good, mom. It’s just me,” Shaw said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Are you…,” she was about to ask when Sameen assured her she was fine.

“Look, I’m just going to come out and say it, okay?” Sameen asked, but was going to do it anyway.

“Say what, azizam?” Azar said warmly and sat down in a chair while Shaw paced.

Sameen looked at her mother and drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings,” she let out all in one breath with no break between the words.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t…,” Azar was about to deny when her daughter waved at her to stop.

“No, no, no-no-no,” Sameen repeated. “I know I did when I said I didn’t trust you – indirectly, of course, so please don’t say I didn’t. I’m not a child, mother. I can…you know…do… feelings now.”

Azar’s eyes surged with the smile that she forbade her lips to express because she could tell how serious Sameen was being. “Yes, I see,” she said.

“Yes - you see I insulted you? Yes - you see I’m apologizing? Or yes, you see…?” Shaw said, having spent all her patience.

“Yes, thank you, Sameen. I understood exactly what you meant this morning, but I will admit, I do so want your trust,” the older woman admitted.

“I know and I’m trying. I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you; it’s just not second nature to me, you know, unless it’s Root; so it’s hard,” Shaw confessed.

“Azizam, you and I have made remarkable progress since we reconnected. I am so grateful for any connection we have. I waited years for this and treasure it; and pray it only gets better with each day,” Azar shared.

“Yeah, it will, Mom,” Shaw assured the woman. “Root’s taught me a lot.”

“You’ve allowed her,” Azar smiled, giving her daughter credit for the change she witnessed.

“Yeah, well, so we’re good?” Shaw asked, wanting to wrap this up.

“We’re good,” Azar said and hugged Sameen.

Sameen was stiff, but her hands did pat her mother on the back. “Okay, then,” she said, awkwardly as she wondered what was next.

“Would you mind giving these to Root?” Azar said, handing Sameen a folder. “I was going to email it to her, but since you’re here, maybe you want to give them to her.”

“What is this?” Shaw asked.

“A present from the Mayor. Old schematics of the City’s underground wiring system. There are some telephone connections in there that Root might find helpful; if she ever needs them,” Azar said because the woman rarely strayed from her agenda.

“Do you think Root should unleash her?” Shaw asked, suspicious of what that might mean.

“I want Root to have the option, should she ever need it,” Azar explained.

“I’m guessing there would be no turning back if she did that; am I right?” Shaw asked.

“Once she allows the Machine to travel via her own routes, I don’t think there is anything we can do to get her back,” Azar said cautiously. “Root will know when the time comes.”

“You didn’t say _if_ ,” Shaw pointed out.

“I’m sorry?” her mother replied.

“You didn’t say – Root will know _IF_ and when the time comes; you just said when,” Sameen clarified.

“Yes,” Azar confirmed because she had an understanding of what the technology could do. “But it will be your decision.”

“I hope so,” Shaw said.

* * *

By the time Shaw made it home, Root and Michael were waiting for her.

“How are you?” Root asked, helping Sameen remove her leather jacket.

“Exhausted,” her wife admitted. “This is why I don’t usually apologize to people. It’s so much trouble and it’s exhausting.”

Root’s eye burst with the smile that only then appeared on her lips. “You are adorable, do you know that?”

Sameen just stared up at her wife after kicking off her shoes. “ _Adorable_? I’m a marine, former operative and now I’m adorable?”

“Oh, I think you were adorable then, but no one wanted to say it,” Root teased, pulling Sameen to the couch. She made her sit and pulled her legs up so she could rub her feet.

“I was _not_ adorable!” Shaw said, accepting the beer bottle Root handed her.

“No, you were tough and unequaled,” Root said, causing Sameen to frown at her.

“I was; I am,” Shaw said defensively, getting that this was one of Root’s verbal tete a tetes. “Okay, right…there…,” she said when Root began massaging her foot.

“Did anyone do this for you when you were an operative?” Root asked, feigning jealousy.

“No, well…,” Shaw said as if she were just remembering. It was supposed to be Shaw’s attempt at playing along with her wife’s joke. But when she said – “There was this one time, this woman…,” - that hit too close to home.

Without thinking, Root’s hand flew to grab Sameen by her shoulder and she pulled her in closer. Sameen spilt the beer as it toppled out of her hand. “Jesus, Root!” Shaw barked, surprised at how easily Root had grabbed her.

“I’m sorry,” Root said, but didn’t mean. She still hadn’t let go of Shaw.

It was just the thought of another woman with her wife that made her snap.

Michael was asleep in the infant seat as her parents tried to figure out what just happened.

“I don’t even want to think about you with anyone else,” Root finally said, and released Sameen.

Shaw knew from the intensity of that tug that Root was upset. “Yeah, I see that,” Shaw said. “But you don’t – because there’s never been anyone…” and she didn’t get to finish that sentence.

“I’m sorry,” Root said before enveloping Shaw’s mouth in a kiss. Root’s brain tried to figure out what was going on as her heart beat with jealousy at just the thought of anyone kissing those lips.

“It’s okay,” Shaw said, when she was finally released, assuring her envious wife. “I’d be jealous, too.”

Sameen always seem to be able to get through to Root and calm her down. “I would kill them,” Root unabashedly admitted.

“Let’s not tell Michael about our dark sides, just yet,” Shaw whispered. “Let’s save that for PTA meetings.”

Shaw’s lighthearted humor made Root laugh and she gently nudged Sameen with her shoulder.

“Now, I smell like beer, so I really should get out of these clothes,” Shaw admitted.

“Yes, yes, you should,” Root said, her hands already making that happen.

* * *

Somewhere on the lower east side, in a bar frequented by ex-marines who enjoyed stiff drinks; sat a group of jar heads who had gathered to welcome back one of their own.

“Where the hell have you been?” asked one of them to their guest of honor.

“Come on, Charlie; I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” said the woman with a smile.

“How long you back for?” another asked.

“This time? Who knows, but I got some things I need to do in New York; so I’m here,” she said, downing another shot someone bought her.

“You’re smiling, Alex, so it must be love,” one of her fellow marines shouted and the crowd erupted into laughter.

“I’m here to get the one who got away,” she shared when the whiskey had loosened her lips.

“What makes you think they waited?” the guy near her asked.

It was a good question; one that Alex Fitzgerald had asked herself a thousand times. It wasn’t like they had ever really spoken the words to one another. It was more of a feeling she got. And before she could act on it, her friend was gone.

“I don’t know that they have; but I’m gonna give it my best shot,” Alex said, holding the empty shot glass up in the air. And then, when she finished the next glass of liquid courage, she stood up at the end of the table. “Here’s to finding Shaw!” she shouted.

“HERE’S TO FINDING SHAW!” the group repeated even though they had no idea who they were talking about.


	22. The Perfect Storm

If it weren’t for the fact that, underneath it all, Root truly was a secure person; she might have gotten jealous over the moaning her wife emitted at the dinner table.

“Oh! My! God!” she called out on her fifth bite of steak that Isabelle had prepared with a new sauce. “I didn’t think this could be any better.”

“One of my personal goals is to hear you say that… _to me_ ,” Root teased as she leaned into her wife at the dining room table. Sameen actually stopped chewing for a second to take that in.

“Try this,” Shaw said and put a piece of the delectable red meat to her wife’s lips.

Bear watched with utter curiosity because he rarely saw Shaw share. He remembered how she used to grab her soft drinks back from Root if she nonchalantly took a sip. ‘ _She’s come a long way,_ ’ he barked to his protégé.

Root only accepted the meat so she could hold Sameen’s hand to her mouth. “This is good,” Root agreed.

“You don’t pay her enough,” Shaw declared and had no idea of the number of increases Root gave the personal chef because she was so accommodating.

While Root and Shaw were enjoying their meal; trouble was brewing downtown.

* * *

Going on a lead from someone who used to know where Sameen sort of lived downtown, Alex Fitzgerald, or ‘ _A-Fitz’_ – to her friends, was on her way to find her old friend. She was home a couple of weeks, but had only recently worked up the nerve to act on her wish to find her. She didn’t tell anyone the real impetus for her actions. A recent cancer scare made her rethink things – things she might regret. She decided she had nothing to lose by at least finding Shaw.

She found a way upstairs and knocked on a door. A man in his underwear answered. “Yeah?” he said as the marine looked him up and down.

“I’m looking for a friend,” Alex said.

“I can be your friend,” the older man said, never once removing the cigar from his mouth.

Alex was definitely getting a sense of the hell-hole her former buddy lived in. It was in a way; very Shaw.

“I’m looking more for someone who takes care of herself and could snap you in two,” Alex clarified.

“You looking for that tough broad with the big…,” he said, cupping his hands in front of him.

“I can’t believe she hasn’t killed you,” Alex said out loud.

“She moved out,” he said. “I think she did. Unless she had one of the operations where now she’s a guy,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “Cause there’s a guy living there now.”

“Where is there exactly?” Alex asked.

“Down the hall; over there,” he pointed and the woman really didn’t want him to move, out of fear something might be exposed.

“Thanks,” Alex said and backed away slowly.

“Tell her we could use some more food,” he said cryptically. In the old days, when Shaw lived there and Root visited; she often arrived with tons of food. Food that Shaw then shared with her neighbors.

But that was a long time ago.

* * *

Alex knocked on the door, hoping that if this was a new tenant, they might have an idea of where her friend was. The occupancy might have changed, but the door was the same one and Alex noticed the ‘ _Fuck everything’_ – carved deep into the wood. She imagined that it was done after a night of hard drinking, when Shaw stumbled home and made it as far as the doorway. Never without a knife… or a gun… she figured Shaw left her message about her feelings there for all to see.

Most of the residents of Shaw’s former building were the world’s overlooked; either by choice or design. No one ever had company; so Cole thought it was odd that someone would be knocking on his door. He immediately grabbed for his gun. “Could be that crazy assistant,” he mumbled, thinking Janine wanted something else now.

“ _Now_ what did I do?” he asked, pulling the door opened wide.

He didn’t recognize the woman standing there; but he could tell she didn’t belong there. He looked past her; to the right and to the left as his hand made sure he could feel his gun shoved in his pants.

“I’m looking for somebody who used to live here; you know her?” Alex asked, sizing this guy up as someone who didn’t fit in there either.

“Who’s asking?” Cole asked out of protection for his friend.

“I was in the marines with her,” Alex said, feeling like this guy knew who she was talking about.

“Why don’t you give me your number…,” was all he got out and suddenly found himself pinned up against the wall.

“You either know her, or you don’t,” Alex said, putting her solid body at an angle and pinning Cole against the wall.

Now, Cole’s hand was pushed against his gun as he assessed this woman. He didn’t want to overpower her until he understood her motivation. She didn’t seem to want Shaw for a bad reason like revenge; she seemed sincere in finding her. Now that he understood that, he tried to subdue her. It was a short scuffle that resulted in him staring up at the ceiling; pinned to the floor.

“I’m thinking that gun pressing into your back is very uncomfortable,” Alex said because she didn’t even need to disarm him – to disarm him.

“What do you want with her?” Cole asked, his arm pinned under him.

“Like I said; we were in the marines. Now, I’m going to let you up, take your gun, and you and me will talk, okay?” the woman suggested.

She stood up, pulling Cole with her and did as she said – taking his gun. “I’m a friend of hers,” Alex said, motioning for Cole to sit down.

“Me, too,” Cole said, rubbing his shoulder. “Which is why I can’t tell you where she is.”

“Loyalty; Shaw always prized that,” Alex said as she sat across from Cole.

“Tell me who you are, and I’ll call Shaw,” Cole proposed.

“Alex Fitzpatrick,” Alex said. “And you are?”

“Cole,” the man answered, trying to remember if Shaw had ever mentioned her. He was certain she hadn’t.

“Where do you know her from?” Alex asked and looked around to see if anything in the sparse apartment might be hers.

“We worked together,” Cole answered. “So, give me your number…”

“I’d rather surprise her,” Alex interrupted him. “Maybe I could just go see her.”

“Lady, you’d have to go through the nine circles of hell to get to her,” Cole said of Shaw’s workplace.

Alex couldn’t explain to this man why it was so important to see Shaw, so she told him: “I have some information for her. So, it’s important that I see her before the info is stale.”

“She’s not really in the _info_ business anymore,” Cole warned the woman.

“Are you going to tell me where to find her?” Alex asked, losing patience.

“You really must have been away because _everyone_ knows where Shaw is,” Cole said, losing his patience.

That declaration did confuse the woman. She grabbed his phone from the table and googled Sameen. An expression of disbelief covered her face when she saw entry after entry about her former marine.

“She’s married?” she said, looking up at Cole.

“With a kid,” Cole added. “And an army of crazy friends, so you might just want to forget…”

“Thanks,” Alex said, deciding this guy was no longer useful. She slid his phone and his gun back across the table; certain she could subdue him again if she had to.

She stood up and walked to the door. “Where did you say you knew Shaw from?” she asked again.

“I didn’t,” Cole said.

“What you know; Shaw joined the CIA,” Alex said and came to that conclusion after Cole wouldn’t say.

The uninvited guest was going down the stairs when Cole grabbed his phone to call his friend, but the strangest thing happened. In spite of being fully charged; his phone was dead.

Alex never looked over her shoulder as she walked down the street to catch the subway uptown. She could have taken a cab; but this would give her time to decide what to do. She still wanted to see Shaw, but realized she was too late with her pronouncement of feelings.

“A girl can hope,” she said, thinking she knew Sameen very well – and marriage and family were not two things one would ever associate with the former marine. “Maybe it’s a phase.”


	23. Blind Spots

Root’s internal struggle at the moment was trying to soften her jealous reaction to Shaw’s moaning over steak. She knew it was ridiculous – but, the green eyed monster stirred in her heart.

“I’m going to ask you a _serious_ question,” Root said to her wife as they lay in bed that night.

“Oh, no,” Shaw responded and only for Root would she have the patience to repeat this. “Yes, in spite of their record; I still think the Yankees will make the playoffs. I told you, Root; never give up on them!”

Root stared at Sameen’s dire expression, which was followed by a ‘ _what_?’ look. Root loved that Sameen would associate her sports team’s chances with the fact that she indicated it was a somber inquiry.

“I know that, Sweetie,” Root said because she learned the hard way never to question the baseball team’s potential to come from behind. “I meant – do you think I should go in and talk to Doctor Campbell?”

Now, truthfully, it took Sameen a minute to realize she meant _HER_ Doctor Campbell, and then another minute for Sameen to think about whether or not Campbell even saw _other_ people. “Why?” she finally asked.

“These postpartum hormones are wreaking havoc with me,” Root said truthfully. “It’s like I can feel them surging inside me sometimes. Like tonight.”

“What happened tonight?” Shaw asked, propped up on her elbow so she could look at Root’s face. Her hand instinctively went to Root’s chest near her heart.

“You’re not going to believe this, but I actually felt jealous of that steak,” Root admitted.

Having feelings over food was actually something Sameen could understand. “Oh, Root,” Shaw said in a tender voice. “Of course you should go in and talk to her. She’s actually pretty good – in an annoying, subversive kind of way,” Sameen thought through. “But, still, she’s good.”

“Maybe I will,” Root said, still unsure of whether she should pay attention or wait for this to go away on its own.

“It must be hard,” Shaw said, because she really didn’t know. “What can I do?”

Root smiled and pulled her into her body. “You’re doing it. I know it’s irrational, Sameen; but I just want you all to myself.”

“Well, then…,” Shaw said, noticing Root’s grip on her was tighter than usual,” … you have me. All of me.”

“Thanks,” Root said, kissing her head, but not loosening the grip. “Do you…ever…feel this way?” Root almost felt silly for asking.

“Of course, I do,” Shaw said, trying to think of a time in case she was asked.

“When?” Root asked.

“You get a lot of attention, Root, because of your work. It took me awhile to be okay with everyone wanting to talk to you; be with you,” Shaw admitted.

That actually made Root feel better. “How did you get over it?”

“Who said I did?” Shaw asked, smiling. “I just know that you and I are meant to be, you know?”

“I do know that, but lately, if I see someone looking at you, it makes something inside of me…,” Root explained and just the thought made her jaw tense and her eyes narrow.

“It’s okay,” Shaw said, her hand gently stroking Root’s jaw. “Hulk mad!” she teased and buried her head while her wife decided if it was funny. It was and Root saw the humor in it.

“I’m not apologizing for it; I mean, to anyone else, but you,” the taller woman announced.

“Hey, you _never_ have to apologize for your feelings,” Shaw proclaimed, almost before she realized what she was saying. “Oh, God, don’t tell the Doc I said that,” she begged.

“I’m the luckiest person in the world,” Root said.

“Second luckiest,” Shaw countered.

In the quiet of their bedroom, where Root felt safe and secure, all of this sounded very good to her.

* * *

Alex Fitzpatrick had returned to her apartment after finding out from Cole that her friend, Sameen Shaw, was far more accessible than she thought. She had a little trouble reconciling the happy expression on Shaw’s face in pictures that she found on the internet. She considered leaving well enough alone, but something inside her said she owed it to herself to talk to Shaw and tell her how she felt. If only she had acted on her feelings all those years before, but she wasn’t as secure in herself as she was now.

She thought about calling Shaw; but decided she wanted the element of surprise on her side. And she also wanted to impress her friend with how easily she could gain access to BEAR. Shaw used to really like things like that.

The only thing Alex brought with her to Cole’s apartment was her attitude and a small device she invented that – when held in her hand – could drain a phone of its energy and contents. It was very effective and now Cole was left without power or contacts.  
“Shit!” was how he expressed his frustration about trying to warn his friend. He grabbed his jacket, dead phone and headed outside. “Does she have any friends that are normal?” he asked the universe out loud. “Except me?” he added. Then, Cole realized the hour. It was too late to show up at Sameen’s door. He’d wait until morning.

* * *

The morning rush to get to work included deciding who would take Michael with them. Sameen offered, but Root was feeling clutchy and asked if she could take her.

“Are you okay?” Shaw asked, pulling Root into her on the elevator. “I can come upstairs…”

“No, I’m alright,” Root said, trying not to go overboard. “We’ll come down to visit later.”

“Good,” Shaw said, kissing Root and her daughter goodbye.

* * *

The smile on Sameen’s face lasted all the way to her office where she found a large cup of coffee and some donuts. “Fusco?” she called out, but no one answered. He was in the men’s room. She dove into the bag and grabbed the biggest one and started eating.

“Shaw?” Cole called.

“Not in today,” she called back.

“Where’s your guard dog? Anyone could walk in here,” Cole said and only got through security downstairs because Fusco said he was okay.

“Did you?” she asked, pointing to the donuts.

“Listen, I had a visitor last night,” Cole started and Shaw rolled her eyes.

“I don’t want to hear about your love life, Cole,” she said.

“What? No, this was someone looking for you,” he explained and took a donut.

“Who?” Shaw asked, pulling the bag closer to her.

“I don’t know; a marine buddy, _Andy_ something, I think,” Cole explained.

“Do you know how long ago I was in the marines? Probably owed him money,” Shaw said, going back for her second treat.

“She; it was a woman,” Cole said.

“I probably owned _HER_ money,” Shaw reiterated, rolling her eyes. “What did she look like?”

“Tallish, kind of curly hair, reddish, fair skin with maybe freckles. Built like a bull, but small,” Cole listed.

“ _This_ is why we had trouble identifying suspects if I recall,” Shaw said of her friend’s lack of attention to detail.

“Bigger than you and almost as quick,” Cole added.

“I seriously doubt that last part,” Shaw said, and meant it.

“Well, here’s the weird part,” Cole said, just as Fusco walked in and grabbed his bag of donuts back.

“Thanks for saving me the _crap_ one, you two,” he complained.

“She took my phone and when she gave it back, it had been wiped clean,” Cole said.

“Who?” Fusco asked.

“The marine friend looking for Shaw,” Cole explained. “I think she wiped my phone.”

“You mean because of all the porn you keep on it?” Shaw asked and Fusco gave her a high-five, even though he was still annoyed that they ate all the good donuts.

“No, not sanitized it; wiped the contents,” Cole huffed.

“What does this have to do with me?” Shaw asked pointedly.

“You don’t think that’s weird?” Cole asked his former partner who used to be suspicious of everything.

“Makes me _very_ suspicious,” the detective interjected and Cole was feeling good about that. Until Fusco explained: “Who would ever think _you_ had friends in the marines?” Fusco asked. Cole did have to stop a minute and give him props.

“Why would someone from a hundred years ago want me?” Shaw asked, dismissing it.

“Well, I told her the chances of her getting into see you were like going through the nine circles of hell,” Cole shared.

“Hey,” Shaw responded defensively. “Oh, you mean because of your interrogation the other day?” she laughed.

“That woman is nuts!” he whispered and hoped Janine didn’t overhear him.

With one swift move; one faster than even Fusco could see; Shaw was up and pinning Cole’s arm behind him. “Say you’re sorry,” she warned him.

“Ooh!” he yelled as Sameen tugged a little more. “I’m sorry!”

“No one insults Shaw’s nuts,” Fusco said, his mouth full of his least favorite donut. “Datdidencomeoutright.”

“Could you two leave?” Shaw asked politely.

“So, you’re not worried?” Cole asked of the suspicious stranger.

“About you? No, I think Janine took care of you just fine,” Shaw laughed at her friend’s expense.

“Captain Crunch okay?” Fusco asked and jerked his head towards Cole.

“She’s… okay,” Shaw said haltingly. She had shared with Fusco that Root’s hormones were wreaking havoc with her. As always; the sage man told her it wasn’t uncommon and to be patient. Of course, that advice led to an argument about how she is patient; which Fusco pointed out proved his point.

“Maybe you better go,” Lionel said since he was never on the restricted list.

But it was too late. When Cole said he was just trying to do Shaw a favor and he was leaving, he turned to find Janine standing in the doorway. “Oh, shit!” he blurted out.

“I hope they taught you how to dig tunnels in the CIA,” Fusco laughed.

“I was just leaving,” Cole said, his hands out in front of him in case the assistant was going to pounce on him.

Janine was silent as she tried to assess whether she was truly needed here or not. Her boss seemed calm, so she stepped aside and let Cole through.

For all the times that his former partner busted on him, he decided to turn back and say; “Shaw, you deserve all of this,” he said, his finger making a large circle.

“What is up with him?” Fusco asked and now Janine was in her boss’ office to hear what the answer was.

“Needs a girlfriend?” Shaw guessed incorrectly.

* * *

All by himself in the elevator on the way down; Cole mumbled about how good intentions always get you hell. Helping Sameen rarely worked in his favor because she was so stubborn. How many missions had they been on where he warned her of exactly where the danger was and she walked into the room nonetheless. “Just tell me where the bad guys are, Cole,” Shaw would tell him right before she walked in; guns a blazing. The woman had a knack for rushing right into danger.

* * *

Alex was on her way to BEAR when she spotted Cole leaving the building. She should have guessed that he would tell Sameen about her coming. Now, she lost the element of surprise. She could call Sameen, now that she had her number from Cole’s phone, but it was possible Shaw wouldn’t agree to see her. Rather than cross the street to the BEAR office, Alex paced outside of Starbucks as she tried to decide how to regain her advantage. Only one maneuver came to mind. The only way to surprise Shaw – was to abduct her.

Surely, that would impress the woman who taught her everything she knew!

Alex’s plan wouldn’t have had a chance because even if she managed to get past BEAR Security, getting past Janine would have proved impossible. The woman was on super alert now that she understood Root wasn’t feeling great.

But a confluence of things was about to make that plan more attainable.

Fusco had left after giving Root an update about the latest crime statistics. It was hard data of where the Machine’s blind spots were. In spite of Sameen accusing the AI as being ‘all seeing’, she was not.

Gen was visiting and watching Michael because Reese had asked Shaw to take his place at the Mayor’s counsel. Reese hated those meetings and came up with any excuse he could think of not to go.

“You’re…taking…yoga?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“Yes,” Reese answered.

“At two o’clock? You’ve got a yoga class?” she repeated, leaning on her toes to see his eyes closer. “Yoga?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Reese answered.

“And Carter knows about this?” Shaw played the girlfriend card.

“Yes,” Reese confirmed.

“Because I will call…,” Shaw warned him.

“She’s the one who insisted I go,” Reese answered and rolled his eyes, giving it some credibility.

“You know you can’t wear your suit to one of these classes, right?” Shaw asked.

“Yeah,” John said, sighing.

“And you have to go to the one at two o’clock?” Shaw pressed.

“That’s right,” Reese replied.

“You know you owe me, right?” Shaw said, because she didn’t like these meetings any more than Reese did.

“Yes,” the tall man sighed, thinking it was a stiff price to pay for getting out of a meeting.

“Fine,” Shaw huffed and shook her head.

She was about to leave when Root came off the elevator.

“Busy?” Root asked.

“Just saving John’s ass here from being bored to tears. Oh, wait, no; you’re still going to be bored to tears,” Shaw teased him.

“Root,” he nodded and left.

* * *

“I’m going to see Doctor Campbell,” Root explained.

“Where’s…?” Shaw quickly asked.

“Gen is with her upstairs. Janine is with her, too,” Root said because she had agreed to her wife’s babysitting stipulation of having two or more people.

“Oh, good. So, you’re going to see the Doc?” Shaw asked again.

“Yes,” her wife answered.

“Okay, look,” Sameen whispered as if she were about to share some Intel; “….she’s good, but she uses these _tricks_. She repeats things that you say; it’s very annoying, but she insists on doing it. Oh yeah, and she’s really good at dragging things out of you…”

“How does she do that?” Root wondered out loud.

“She... stops… talking,” Shaw answered her eyebrows both arched.

“Oh,” Root commented, smiling at how clever her wife was to figure this all out.

“And she’s okay with all that silence!” Shaw said softly, but with a horrified tone. “So, other than that, it’s all good.”

“Thank you,” Root smiled and kissed the experienced patient.

“Oh, did you look at those schematics my mother got for you?” Shaw asked.

“Yes, very useful. We’re working on the Machine’s blind spots in the City and those drawings of old communication systems could be very helpful,” Root explained.

“What blind spots?” Shaw asked.

“Where there aren’t cameras, for example,” Root said.

“My mother thinks you’re going to let her loose one day,” Shaw remembered.

“Maybe; but not today,” Root smiled and said she’d see Sameen after she was done.

* * *

Shaw went upstairs, interrogated Janine and Gen about what the top five emergency scenarios were that might involve the baby. The two women passed with flying colors.

Then, Sameen dragged herself downstairs to go to the meeting.

She didn’t plan on taking a shortcut down the alley on 38th Street, but she really was late.

Alex Fitzpatrick didn’t know she’d find Sameen alone in an alleyway, but if you’re going to kidnap someone – even to astound them – an abandoned passageway did make the perfect setting.

“Hello, Shaw,” Alex said, coming up behind the woman she was following for three blocks.

“Who the hell are you?” Shaw asked, right before she felt the Taser being applied to her neck.

“Just like old times, eh, Shaw?” Alex said, thinking the woman slumped over in her arms would be impressed


	24. When the Past Comes Back to Bite You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I typically don't do well with breaks, so if there are glitches, let me know. Many thanks.

There wasn’t a commendation Alex Fitzpatrick hadn’t received when she was a marine recruit. Her superior officers had noted her ingenuity, her bravery; her resourcefulness to develop a plan without notice or material; and her resilience to see a mission through to its end. In fact, the only cautionary remark in the file of the woman was that she could be impulsive at times. Alex was in fact, proving them correct, right now. After tazing Shaw into a stupor, she injected a very small amount of a sleep inducing drug. She sized up the surroundings and what her options were. She took the lifeless body of her former marine buddy and carried her to an abandoned warehouse that provided her a place to sit Sameen down. She reached into her jacket and produced two zip ties and attached them to Sameen’s wrists. Not the smoothest way to greet an old friend, she admitted; but then, all she could see was the means justifying the ends.

* * *

While Sameen slept in the chair, Root was getting settled on Iris’ couch.

“Let me get straight to the point,” Root said, smiling as she leaned forward; her hands overlapped over her crossed legs. “I know what’s going on, but I can’t seem to stop it.”

“Oh?” Iris responded and hadn’t reached for her pen and pad yet. When Root called to say she wanted to come in, Iris was pleased that Root felt comfortable enough to do so.

“Ever since I came home from the hospital with Michael,” Root started and took a second out to smile from her eyes to her lips thinking about the baby, “…I’ve been edgy.”

“Do you think it’s a result of the post-delivery? “ Iris asked to be sure.

“I’m certain of it,” Root confirmed. “And I know it will pass, but here’s the thing, Doctor Campbell; it’s bringing up real issues; ones that are very old.”

Iris could tell Root had given this a great deal of thought. “Can you tell me about them?” she asked and slowly reached for her pen and pad.

“It all makes sense, really,” Root said, sitting back and getting to the heart of the issue. “I never really had close connections outside of my mother. When she died, the world became a very scary place. I knew I had to take things into my own hands if I were going to survive. Unchecked foster homes taught me that. So, relationships were not something I seized. In fact, having no attachments meant I could move around at my leisure.” Root had just summed up her childhood in a few sentences.

“Please go on,” Iris prompted.

“Then, I met Harold, of course, and he proved there were some people I could trust. Still, I was very cautious, until…,” Root continued until she came to the part where she met the love of her life. Just the mentioning of it brought a flush to her face and a quickening to her heart. Her eyes burst with a smile as her gaze turned away. She was consumed with thinking of Sameen.

It was so evident, that even Iris found herself smiling.

“Well, of course you know I mean Sameen. She’s like no one – period. And we were meant to be together. Funny how life works out when you think it never will. Anyway, the hormonal imbalance is making me feel insecure, especially around Sameen. I sometimes can’t stand when she’s out of my sight. I need to touch her repeatedly during the night, to make sure she’s there. And…,” Root said, looking away and feeling embarrassed, “… I get incensed when I see someone else is looking at her.”

None of this surprised the therapist, and she was glad to hear that Root was very insightful on what was happening. “Tell me what you feel when you think someone is looking at her.”

Root thought that was a great question and she appreciated Iris honing in. She recreated the scenario in her mind, to bring the feelings to the forefront.

Iris watched quietly as she witnessed the transformation from a calm, caring Root – to a vessel of anger and possessiveness. Root’s eyes narrowed, her breathing quickened, and her face turned red. Her fists curled into balls and her jaw tensed. “I want to kill them,” she said in voice Iris never heard her use before.

From Iris point of view, she was assessing Root’s response to an _imagined_ threat. Root’s was off the charts.

“Tell me why you want to kill them?” Iris asked in a calm voice.

It was a good question and one that made Root realize how extreme her response was. She hadn’t said the imagined other was endangering her wife; she said they were looking at her. Root looked at Iris and slowly sat back. “I…,” Root said and paused, looking at the therapist for the rest of that sentence. Root was already analyzing her responses.

“Just say whatever comes to mind,” Iris encouraged her.

“She’s mine!” Root shouted out – and it was the feelings that were building in her that caused her to raise her voice. “I need her!” she said, but it was softer.

“Are you afraid Sameen does not feel the same way?” Iris gently asked.

“No!” Root answered because of course she knew Shaw loved her.

“Are you afraid someone could take her from you?” Iris inquired.

“I’m afraid…,” Root answered with the part that was easy, “…I can’t protect her.”

The answer wasn’t an exact fit to this puzzle, and Root knew it. If anyone didn’t need protection, it was Shaw. And yet, there was a deep seeded fear of being separated that was driving this.

“Samantha,” Iris said and waited for Root to look her in the eyes, “…is it possible that the aftermath of having the baby is putting you in touch with things you felt; feelings of no one protecting you?”

“I said it was old,” Root agreed.

“Sometimes, we want to give others what we, ourselves, want,” Iris explained.

Root already knew this. And she knew it was manifesting itself in her obsession with Shaw. “She’s mine,” Root said.

“Sameen is your sense of belonging and safe?” Iris asked.

They were past making the obvious connections now, and it was harder for Root to make sense of it. “I just need to know she’s right there, with me.”

“Samantha, when we experience loss early in our lives; losses that leave us alone; it translates into messages about the world and it seems very unsafe to us,” Iris said softly. “Sameen is your anchor.”

Root listened with her head – and her heart. “YES!” she said and liked that description of Shaw.

“In turbulent times, we reach out for our anchors,” Iris pointed out.

Root thought about that and a calmness came over her. “She is, Doctor Campbell; she’s my anchor.”

Iris and Root continued to talk about how Root’s life skills were forged in a very unsafe and insecure environment. Her aggression was born out of having to take care of herself in dangerous situations. It wasn’t the fear of losing Shaw that was rearing its ugly head; but rather, that this situation Root was in was very unfamiliar. Feeling out of control reminded her of what growing up was like after her mother died. She was applying the same skill sets to get through – even though it was a very different situation.

“We use what we know,” Iris smiled, helping to normalize what Root was experiencing.

Shaw was right; Root thought; they didn’t pay this woman enough.

* * *

It was one of life’s amazing examples of irony that, as Root talked about her wife being the anchor in her life, the lifeless body of Sameen was slouched over in a chair and slowly coming to.

The first thing Shaw felt was the ties against her hands; then the hot sensation where the Taser hit, and then the heavy feeling of the drug. “Jesus, Root!” Shaw said, because the triple prongs of being subdued shouted her wife’s style. “Can’t you ask me to lunch like everyone else?” Shaw was going to complain that this was a little over the top when someone else came into view. Then, she remembered seeing a stranger right before being hit.

“Who the hell are you? And where do you want me to bury your body?” Shaw spat as she struggled against the ties.

“Sorry about that,” came the familiar line.

“Which part? The tazing, the drugging or whatever the hell…,” Shaw started to ask and realized the voice wasn’t Root’s.

“I had to make sure you’d hear me out,” the voice said and Sameen closed her eyes a couple of times to regain focus. “It’s me,” Alex said and pulled a chair up in front of Shaw.

“Do I know you?” Shaw asked, because the tone of the voice was in no way threatening.

“It’s me; A-Fitz, from MARSOC. You were my commanding officer, “ Alex said and put her hands on Sameen’s. “It’s me, Shaw.”

Shaw stared hard at the woman; not so much to identify her, but to assess the best way to overtake her.

“You’re trying to figure out your next move, but I assure you, it isn’t necessary,” Alex said and reached down to her boot.

“You’re going to dissuade my trust issues?” Shaw asked, to keep her captor occupied while she found something to hit her with.

“You can trust me, Shaw. And to prove it; I’m happy to take the first step,” Alex said, slowly producing a knife that she then used to cut the zip ties on Shaw’s wrists.

It took only a second for Shaw to grab the knife, jump from her seat and hold it against Alex’s neck. “This is the part where you give me one good reason not to end this here,” Shaw growled.

Alex didn’t flinch, which meant she more or less expected Sameen to respond in such a manner. “October 2; we were away on leave. We headed into the only semblance of a town in Kabul. We had less than twenty-four hours to get whatever liquor and entertainment we could to forget all that we had seen,” Alex started.

Shaw hadn’t released the knife from her neck, but she was beginning to believe the woman did know her.

“There was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that served marines. The walls were thick and the drinks weren’t watered down. You ordered a bottle of scotch. I thought it was for the table; but you drank that sucker down like it was Kool Aid,” the story teller continued. “You weren’t just drunk; you were nasty drunk.”

“Someone from AA send you?” Shaw quipped and pulled the knife back and sat down. “You better tell me what this is about.”

“The rest of the guys thought seeing their commanding officer shitfaced was funny, but I knew you’d get hell when we returned. I got you up, into a back room where you could rest and sleep it off,” Alex relayed with great attention to detail.

“So, all these years later, you hunted me down for a thank you?” Shaw asked and tried to shake off the last of the drug feeling.

“Shaw, I came all this way to tell you something,” Alex said truthfully.

“Don’t tell me I still have the bar tab that I didn’t pay?” Shaw said, standing up and falling back into the chair.

“I kept talking to you that night; to make sure you were okay. I didn’t want you to get into trouble, you know?” Alex remembered

“That’s where you got me kid, because I was always in trouble,” Shaw said.

“We talked for what seemed like hours and I was about to tell you something when you passed out for good,” Alex said.

“Yeah, well, I’m not one for small talk, or whatever this is, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way,” Shaw said, but didn’t try her legs again just yet.

“I kissed you that night, Shaw,” Alex said and now Sameen focused on what was being said. “I was trying to tell you how I felt, and when I turned around, you were passed out. I leaned down to make sure you were breathing, and I kissed you.”

Shaw was about to stand up again when she took a good look at this woman. It was slowly coming back to her, but Shaw knew a lot of recruits and worked with a lot of marines before she left.

“Then, one day you were gone,” Alex said and her voice was suddenly very sad. “They said you had volunteered for a black ops assignment that so many others felt was a suicide mission.”

Now, _that_ , Shaw did remember. Even her superior officers tried to talk her out of it, but she had nothing to lose. She didn’t know it at the time, but the CIA was behind that covert operation and were very impressed with her ability to single handedly get the job done. The offered her a job after its completion.

“I never saw you again,” Alex summed up.

“Look, kid,” Shaw said, “… you could have just called me on the phone and asked if I wanted to go out for a beer. You didn’t need to kidnap me.”

That word slowly made Sameen think.

“I wanted to impress you,” Alex admitted openly.

There was actually a part of Shaw’s brain that understood that. “Yeah, it’s not me I’m worried about,” Shaw said, wondering where the hell they were. “Did anyone see you come in here?”

“No one,” Alex said, still holding onto a thread of hope that Shaw was impressed. “Shaw, I had a health scare…”

“Not like the one that could be coming your way,” Shaw said, testing her legs and found them still wobbly. She sat back down and looked at her captor.

“I love you, Shaw. I never stopped thinking about you after that night. And I had hoped that maybe you thought of me, too,” Alex said, putting all her cards on the table.

Ordinarily, Sameen Shaw was not surprised that someone was declaring their admiration for her. It sort of came with the super strong ego she had. But she was acutely aware that this was neither the place nor the time for this. And if Root got wind of it, via her all seeing Machine, Sameen wasn’t sure what would happen.

Well, she was pretty sure, but she didn’t want to think about that.

“Alex, listen, I appreciate all the trouble you went to… I think,” Shaw said because there wasn’t enough time to tell this woman she went over the top.

“I knew you would!” Alex gushed, because she thought Shaw was admiring her techniques. “None of it is permanent, you know,” she assured her captive.

“I wish I could make the same promise,” Shaw quipped and went for her phone to see if there were messages.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I kinda wiped that clean,” Alex apologized.

“You…you went to see Cole?” Shaw asked, remembering that he tried to tell her.

“Yes, and he was of no help. Well, he’s loyal, so I couldn’t blame him. I took his contacts off his phone,” she said proudly.

“Speaking of _obliterating_ something,” Shaw said, thinking if Root couldn’t get it touch with her, the army would soon descend. “This fiasco is going to get pretty heated soon.”

Misunderstanding her choice of words completely, Alex continued. “Did you think of me, Shaw?”

“Listen, kid,” Shaw stopped to say because, even though the woman was only a couple of years younger, she figured she had to be lightyears away in her naiveté. “I don’t remember much from that time. I took on insane missions and when I wasn’t doing crazy stuff like that, I was drinking to forget what I saw. So, I’m sorry, but…,” Shaw was saying when something flashed in her mind. Like the old memories that Root’s hormones were uncovering, the woman’s face was doing the same to Sameen. Suddenly, she placed the face. “Holy crap,” Shaw said slowly as the images came back to her. “You were in Karachi…”

“Yes!” Alex said, pleased that Shaw finally remembered her.

“You…,” Sameen said, sitting back in the chair and looking away, as the story unfolded in her head.

“I was there with you,” Alex completed the thought.

“You!” Shaw said, and her tone was filled with annoyance, even though Alex didn’t get that. “You…”

“Yes, Shaw,” Alex beamed.

“You sonova bitch; you saved my life!” Shaw barked.

* * *

Although Root felt she had sorted out a lot of what she had been feeling, she felt as if Iris affirmed it was all normal. Sometimes, that’s all we need.

“Talk to Sameen, Samantha,” Iris suggested. “Getting these feelings out will help.”

Taking her verbal prescription, Root thanked the therapist. “I see why Shaw finds it easy to talk to you,” Root said and Iris smiled, but never said a word.

Feeling like she was back on track, Root texted her wife to tell her what happened. Janine confirmed that Shaw had left to cover for Reese at a meeting and hadn’t come back. After not getting a reply, Root paced her office while Michael slept peacefully.

Giving into the temptation, Root opened her communication with the Machine.

“Where is Shaw?” she asked in a hushed voice. She was surprised that more than a second passed before the voice responded.

‘ _She cannot be detected_ ,’ the Machine answered.

“What? Are you kidding me? She covered for Reese at the Mayor’s. Is Reese really at yoga?” Root asked, because she was thinking this was all a glitch.

' _Reese is at the yoga class with Detective Carter; but Shaw never showed at the Mayor’s meeting_ ,' the Machine reported, after accessing arrival logs and cameras.

“Where is Shaw?” Root asked again. “Use her phone,” she said as if the AI hadn’t already done that.

' _Her phone is inaccessible and inoperable. She was last seen on 38th Street,'_ the Machine informed Root and played back the video from the street camera that showed Shaw going into the alley.

“Wait!” Root said, when she noticed someone else walking into that same alley. “Who is that?”

The machine triangulated the image. ' _Alexandra Fitzpatrick, former USMC; she recently received her honorable discharge. Lives in lower Manhattan, on Bank Street. Currently developing software and hardware for the government_.'

“Is there any connection…?” Root was asking, but the Machine was already analyzing that.

‘ _She served with Shaw in the Corps_ ,’ came the response.

Root pulled back and started to pace. She tried talking to herself about the plausible possibilities. But something was nagging at her. The calmness the session with Iris brought was being shredded as she thought about what to do. It was conceivable that Shaw ditched the meeting. It was possible that Shaw dropped her phone. It seemed impossible that the Machine could not find her, although there was the blind spot issue. Root suddenly smiled as she looked down at Michael sleeping.  
“I guess we’ll have to do this the old fashion way,” Root decided as she called for backup, “…and look for her myself.”

Martine and Janine were in Root’s office in a few seconds. Janine was left in charge of the baby and Martine was instructed to accompany her. Root never let on that she was worried because Janine would have been of no use to them. She waited until she was on the elevator with Martine to explain what was happening.

“I’m glad you called me,” Martine said.

“I need you to make sure of _one_ thing,” Root said as they started to walk out of BEAR.

“Anything,” Martine agreed.

“Someone may have followed Shaw into that alley. If anyone is responsible for this, make sure I don’t kill them,” Root asked. “I won’t subject Michael to weekend prison visits.”

Martine thought Root asked to come along as back up. Now, she was beginning to think she asked to come along to protect someone _else_ from harm. She looked at her boss to see how serious she was.

There was no mistaking it – Root was dead serious.


	25. Taking Care of Business

Shaw had finally had enough time to piece together where this woman was from. “You did all this…?” Shaw asked slowly. “…To catch up?”

“More than catch up, Shaw,” Alex said, happy that her friend seemed calm.

“You know I’m married and have a baby, right?” Shaw asked, just to be sure as she tried to figure out how much time had passed.

“I did, but it didn’t fit,” Alex admitted. “I mean, you? Settled down and married? It didn’t fit, Shaw,” Alex said truthfully. “I know it was selfish of me to do it this way, but I promised myself when the test results came back negative; that I wasn’t going to waste any more time in setting things straight.”

“I’m… _happily_ ….married,” Shaw repeated.

“I didn’t stop thinking about you once,” Alex proclaimed and smiled.

“Geezus, the last thing I remember about you was being pissed off at you,” Shaw shared truthfully.

“Because I…,” Alex started to say.

“Saved my life!” Shaw spat and her tone sounded more like she was downright annoyed at the other woman.

Which, being Shaw; she was.

“But…,” Alex said, thinking she might now have a chance to explain why she did it.

“But - nothing; it was foolish and dangerous and you could have gotten yourself killed!” Shaw yelled.

“It’s what I was trained to do,” Alex pointed out, to the woman who hated things pointed out to her.

“NOT FOR ME!” Shaw said, getting up and pacing now, annoyed all over again.

“I’m… sorry?” Alex guessed because she wanted to keep things calm with Shaw.

“Okay, whatever, look…,” Shaw dismissed what was happening; “… you have _bigger_ issues to deal with.”

“Like what? Anything I did was totally temporary, Shaw. No residual effects, I promise. I just wanted us to have a chance to talk – openly,” Alex smiled pleasantly.

“Alex,” Shaw sighed and her shoulders dropped, “…my wife is on her way here…”

“How would she even know where to find you?” Alex asked and looked around at the abandoned room.

“Trust me, sister; she’s got _more_ than one way,” Shaw said, looking around. “Let’s just part ways here…”

“No!” Alex said, standing up erect. “I can’t believe this is the life you want, Shaw.”

“Alex, you don’t know me,” Shaw tried, wondering exactly how long it would take for Root to appear.

“I do! I was with you on the front lines. Was your wife? Did she see you during any of that?” Alex pleaded. “The Shaw I know never wanted any of this!”

If it weren’t for the fact that Sameen knew that this kid had _no_ idea what she was about to come up against, she would have walked out. “Look, Alex,” she said patiently and sat back down in the chair, pointing to the other chair for the woman to sit in. “… I don’t know what you _think_ you know about me, but I’m not the same woman I was. That much I can guarantee. I get that you think I would be the same person, because I never changed under any circumstances. I got kicked out of medical school because I couldn’t do things their way. But, something happened,” Shaw said - and a smiled came across her face as she thought about that. “No, _someone_ happened; _Root_ , happened,” she explained and sat back in the chair. “Root is the only thing in the world that I would change for. She’s the pieces that were missing from me and she fills every void I ever felt. She’s… wonderful.”

Alex watched and listened and could see the transformation in Sameen. She shook her head at how obvious it was. “Wow; it’s really true, then,” she concluded.

“Yes,” Shaw said, leaning over and patting her hand. “Now, in spite of all of what I’ve said, when you meet my wife, please remember you’re not exactly meeting her under the best of circumstances.”

Alex’s heart hurt, but she was grateful that Shaw wasn’t upset with her. “I’d be happy to meet her,” she said, thinking they’d set a date for dinner or drinks.

“I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions, just yet,” Shaw said, looking at her watch and thinking any second now.

Shaw was absolutely right.

* * *

Martine had been on military excursions that moved with less stealth than her boss moved on the trail of her wife. They weaved in and out of crowds until Root stood at the entry to the alleyway. There was debris and broken glass all over and Root worried that Shaw was hurt. Martine knew exactly where to stand; slightly behind Root to her right as she surveyed the area. She watched Root’s jaw tense up as she considered what might have happened. Root looked down one more time at her phone and read what info the Machine could find on her wife’s possible abductor. There was no indication that there were any mental health issues; in spite of the woman’s actions.

“Remember,” Root said, turning to her trusted aid. “As long as Sameen is okay; she lives.”

Martine thought that was fair. It didn’t mean there wouldn’t be punishment.

Root followed the clues on the ground to see where two people could have walked and found a doorway. From the way the broken glass was scattered, she determined that the perpetrator dragged Sameen’s feet through it. It was then that Root made the wisest decision she could. She handed Martine her gun.

“I can’t be trusted,” Root said, honestly, before entering the building.

Martine admired Root’s candor and followed her in.

“I am coming in unarmed,” Root announced and then saw the woman sitting with Shaw. “…but that does not mean I won’t kill you.”

“ _That_ … would be my wife,” Shaw said, caught between being impressed with Root’s entrance and excited over her actions. She turned to see Root – who somehow, never looked taller. Or meaner. “I’m okay,” Shaw said, standing up and watching Root walk slowly towards them. “Alex…,” she said in a soft voice; _you know the kind you use when there’s a dangerous animal approaching and you want to warn the other person not to make any sudden moves_. “…get ready.”

Root stared hard at Shaw, sizing her up for damage or injury. Even at that distance, she saw the marks on her neck and wrists.

“She _tazed_ you and _zip tied_ you?” Root said, her eyes filling with fury.

Shaw instinctively grabbed her own wrists, and then her neck. “It was nothing,” Shaw said, wondering how much time Alex actually had to say her peace. Seconds, at most.

“No one does that to Shaw, but me!” Root said, without thinking, but terribly annoyed that someone else would duplicate her subversive tactics. “Did she drug you?”

“A little,” Shaw said, not wanting Root to be more upset than she was. “But it wasn’t like…you know, us.”

Root walked over to Shaw and took her hands and pulled her arms out to inspect her more closely.

“I misunderstood this whole situation,” Alex said, now that she was faced with Shaw’s declared lover.

Martine was busy checking out the best place for her to stand to carry out Root’s instructions. “Shaw,” she nodded her head. Sameen felt better than the cool, calm, and collected woman was there, too.

“Root..,” Shaw started, but it was too late.

The taller woman turned away from her wife to look directly at Shaw’s former marine buddy. “I should kill you,” Root said – and her tone was so cold, even Shaw was surprised.

“Honey?” Shaw said and tried to grab Root’s hands.

Root wasn’t having _any_ of that. Her breathing labored and her eyes flashed anger as she momentarily thought about her options. “No one touches Shaw,” Root said, but that only fired her nerve endings up more.

“I thought she’d be impressed,” Alex said and by now, had wisely put the chair between her and Root. “I knew Shaw a long time ago; I didn’t realize things had changed.”

All of this sounded reasonable and Martine even understood that sometimes, military personnel don’t always adjust to civilian life well. It would appear this woman was using her old ways.

“You’ve been under a rock and haven’t seen her picture anywhere?” Root asked, and she almost sounded pleasant, but Shaw knew better. “You put your hands on her?” and now there was no mistaking the angry tone.

“Root, you should know that Alex here, and I still find this unbearably annoying, but… she saved my life,” Shaw said, hoping to slow Root down. She did.

“What? When?” Root asked, turning to Shaw.

“A long time ago,” Alex quickly said. “And I had no idea it annoyed you.”

“How could it not?” Shaw said, forgetting the matter at hand. “ _You_ … _saved_ … _me_!” Shaw turned to the only other woman who could understand what she was feeling. One look at Martine and she knew she did. The only reason to explain Shaw’s annoyance was that the younger woman unhinged the natural order of things by saving her superior officer – a woman who prided herself on never needing saving.

“She… _saved_ …you?” Root stopped long enough to ask. She was certain she had never heard of a story where someone saved Shaw. Maybe Fusco; maybe Cole, but never this woman.

“Completely disobeyed orders and put herself in danger,” Shaw said, throwing her hands up as if it happened yesterday.

“You… _saved_ …her?” Root asked, looking back at Alex.

“We were in a village, near Kuwait; this boy came out of nowhere and ran out right into crossfire. Shaw ran, grabbed him and pulled him to safety,” Alex started to share.

“Yeah, yeah, get to the part where you almost got court martialed,” Shaw tried to segue. _There was no such part of the story, but Shaw had been so angry, she kept asking her commanding officer why not. ‘Because she saved your ass, Shaw,’ he told her and didn’t make her feel better. ‘I don’t need saving! I do the saving!’ she shouted back, but he just shook his head._

“There was group of armed men, coming around the building where she was…,” Alex continued. “I… blew them up.”

_Alex was leaving out the part where she broke from the ranks and ran out with a grenade launcher, carrying the equipment by herself while the rest of the platoon scrambled under fire. Even the platoon leader had assessed it was too dangerous to intervene, but Alex was smaller and faster than the bulky men in the unit._

Root looked from Shaw to Alex. Shaw’s expression was – ‘See, why I’m annoyed?’ – but Alex’s was sincere and humbled.

“Dammit,” Root said, because she understood that this woman – whom she wanted to hurt for hurting her wife, had also saved Sameen from certain disaster.

It was a rare moment when Root didn’t know what to do; which feeling to act on. She drew a deep breath as she considered her options.  
And then she decided.

Light brown eyes smiled at Sameen as she came to her decision. “I promised to always take care of you,” she smiled sweetly. “I can’t let this just go.”

With that, Root turned and clenched her fist. “ _No one_ touches Shaw,” she said, as her fist swung up and hit Alex right in the jaw; the impact sending the woman flying backwards and coming to an abrupt halt when she hit some boxes.

Satisfied that she had defended her woman’s honor; Root turned to Martine. “Help her up,” Root instructed. “And invite her to dinner at our place tonight. Please come with Ayala.”

Having extended her fist – and a dinner invitation – Root was satisfied. She took Shaw’s hand and walked outside with her. Shaw hurried alongside to keep up.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie…,” Shaw said, pulling Root to stop when they were outside, “…that was hot.”

“Yeah,” Root said, looking up, “… it was.”

* * *

Inside, Martine offered her hand to the discombobulated woman. Alex reached up with one hand; holding her jaw with the other.

“I never expected to see that much change in Shaw,” Alex confessed; a part of her understanding Root’s assault.

“Wait until tonight,” Martine remarked and explained that she was invited to dine with the couple.  


	26. Preparing for Dinner

For a woman who detested _not_ being in charge, Shaw was rather enamored with the way Root just took hold of the situation and whisked her out of there when she was done. What amazed Sameen the most was how hot she found Root; and there wasn’t even a gun involved.

All the way back to the apartment, Shaw kept checking Root’s hand. She was pleasantly surprised that there was no swelling, which she knew meant Root had hit the woman exactly where there would be no harm done to her hand. The same couldn’t be said for Alex, who rubbed her jaw all the way back to her apartment.

* * *

If Root was pleased at how impressed her wife was; she was even more thrilled when she overheard Sameen talking to the baby as she got ready for dinner. “You had to see her; your mother,” Sameen gushed to the baby as she sat in her seat on the bed. “She waltzed in and announced she was unarmed, but I knew better,” she said knowingly. The baby squealed at her mother’s animation as she imitated Root. “ _That doesn’t mean I won’t kill you_ ,” she repeated. “She was so smooth. I mean, I wasn’t surprised she showed up. It was really just a matter of time, but _what_ an entrance.”

Root listened at the bedroom door to Sameen’s version of what happened, all the while beaming.

“Alex figured she’d be upset, and she tried to explain. Your mother listened, but she was so intimidating, just standing there. A woman on a mission!” Shaw related. “I knew Martine was there for Alex’s protection, which is so Root,” she continued. “Anyway, after finding out that Alex had … well, you don’t need to know that part, but finally Mommy decided the best course of action was to be civil. But Mommy is also very protective,” Shaw shared with the baby who continued to stare and listen. “She was so fast, Alex didn’t see her coming!”

Root wasn’t so sure they should share the more violent details with their daughter; but she simply couldn’t interrupt Sameen bragging about her.

“You will never have to worry about bullies at school, Michael. I mean, I know you knew this, but Mommy will put an end to that before it starts!” Shaw said, thinking ahead. She ended her soliloquy about Root’s adventure by saying; “You are a very lucky little girl.”

Root couldn’t have agreed more. She stepped into the room as if she had just arrived. “There are my two favorite people in the whole world, “ Root said as she came in and hugged Sameen and then put her face down near Michael. “I missed you!”

Michael’s face lit up when she saw Root and squealed her hello.

“What do you want to wear to dinner?” she asked Michael as she selected two outfits and held them up in front of herself for the baby to choose. Pushing one forward and then the other, Root agreed the pants were the better choice.

“So, why did you invite Alex over?” Shaw felt it necessary to ask.

Root was, as usual, ready with her explanation. “I want to get to know the woman who was with you and who, even though we don’t like to say it, saved your life,” Root said and watched the scowl appear on Shaw’s face as she expected. “Keep your friends close; and your enemies closer,” Root added as if it were a Hallmark Card greeting.

“You think Alex is an enemy?” Shaw asked, because the woman may have been misguided, but she detected no threat.

“She has until the end of dinner to convince me she isn’t,” Root said in a friendly tone.

“And you want Michael at dinner?” Shaw asked, wondering if that was a good idea.

“Oh, yes!” Root said, because she had planned this all out. “Friend or foe, this woman needs to see how much you’ve changed; how happy you are.”

“Well, that won’t be hard,” Shaw said, pulling Root into a hug after she dressed the baby. “Everyone can see that.”

Root grinned back at her wife, but it wasn’t her usual warm smile. There was a definite layer of ‘ _we will see_ ’ covering that grin. It made Sameen think.

“How can I put this?” Shaw said, shoving her hands in her pockets and squinting her eyes.

“Doctor Campbell would say – _just say it_ ,” Root said, teasingly.

“Et’slay otnay ithay anyoneyay inyay ontfray ofyay ichaelmay , okayyay?” Shaw said in her version of pig Latin.

“Excuse me?” Root laughed; a little rusty on the translation.

“Et’slay otnay ithay anyoneyay inyay ontfray ofyay ichaelmay, okayyay?” Shaw repeated, but more slowly.

“Let’s not ithay?” Root tried.

“Letsnot _hit_ anyoneinfrontof…,” Shaw deciphered and jerked her head towards the baby.

“Oh!” Root said, finally getting it. “Of course not.”

Shaw was very relieved to hear that. “Unless of course…,” Root added as she picked up the baby in her arms and leaned over to whisper in Shaw’s ear; “… _you’re_ being a very bad girl.”

Root didn’t even have to look back at Sameen’s reaction. She heard her suck in air and could sense her mouth was opened, but nothing was coming out. She loved to do that to her wife. Finally, when Root and Michael were well out of the room, she heard;

“That’s not what I meant, Root, and you know it!”

* * *

When Alex had said it was nice of Root to offer, but perhaps another time; it was incumbent upon Martine to tell her – it wasn’t an invite that required an RSVP. She was going – period. Martine accompanied her to her apartment while she got changed. She called her girlfriend and told her they were having dinner with Root and Shaw… and an old marine acquaintance.

The table was set and Root was feeding Michael, when Shaw remembered where Root had been that day.

“Hey, how did it go with doc?” she asked, already eating the extra hors d’oeuvres that Isabelle made just for her.

“She’s very good!” Root said as Michael nursed happily. “I mean, she’s excellent.”

“Did it help?” Shaw asked, shoving another delectable bite into her mouth.

“Most definitely,” Root nodded her head. “She suggested that I talk _to you_ when these feelings come up,” she continued and knew that statement would make Sameen stop chewing.

“Oh,” Shaw said, wondering what that meant. “Lukalldatime?” she asked, her mouth full of tiny quiches. Light brown eyes shot up at her, smiling. “I mean,” Shaw swallowed, “…that would be okay.”

“I know _exactly_ what you mean,” Root laughed, because her wife could hide no secrets from her.

When Michael was full, Root handed the baby to Sameen. One look at how Shaw’s face lit up told the second mother, this was exactly the image she wanted when their guests arrived. Root’s decision about the woman who had abducted her wife was to give her a chance. It didn’t mean she liked her.

* * *

Ayala met her girlfriend and the guest downstairs. She had a lot of questions regarding the history this woman shared with her sister. Alex was more than happy to share her stories about Ayala’s heroic sister; even on the short ride upstairs.

“She says you _were_ a big deal when you served,” Ayala said as soon as Root greeted them.

“What do you mean _were_?” Shaw quipped as Ayala leaned in to kiss the baby. “Do you have all your vaccinations?”

“Check my babysitting file, sis,” Ayala said, walking into the living room.

“Thanks for coming, Alex,” Root said and watched her smile uncomfortably because she didn’t have a choice.

Alex thanked her for inviting her and walked into the living room.

Then, to thank Martine for making sure Alex got there, and in an attempt to be very discreet, Root tried to wink at her. It was such an exaggerated closure of her eyelid, accompanied by a definite dip of her head, that Martine just stared.

As Root walked ahead to make sure her guests were getting settled, Shaw turned to Martine and whispered;

“She was _trying_ to wink. We’re still working on it.”


	27. Making an Impression

There wasn’t _one_ detail that the tech genius slash protective wife and mother didn’t plan for that night. She guided Alex to sit in the chair that would keep Sameen and Michael in her line of sight; just so she could see how happy Shaw was. She also had checked both her hands when she shook them before; because she was curious to see if the device that wiped phones clean of their contents wasn’t concealed in jewelry. Then, she asked Martine to sit next to Alex – in case she needed to be swept out of danger.

Alex didn’t know everything was being carefully orchestrated. She sat down and before long, could easily see happy her wished- for-love-interest was. Alex might have been overzealous; she wasn’t stupid. She could tell immediately that her info on Shaw was terribly outdated. Isabelle was serving the appetizers when Alex suddenly jumped up from her seat.

“I just want to apologize; especially to you, Shaw,” Alex said and everyone stared. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Now, of course, Root and Martine knew immediately what the woman was referring to, and Root was especially pleased. But Shaw was on a different page, as usual.

“It’s alright,” she said, but no one believed her, “… you were inexperienced and stupid.”

“I’m sorry?” Alex said, because her kidnapping skills were _anything_ but inexperienced and stupid.

Root got it immediately and was about to tell Sameen that Alex was talking about today.

“For saving me; there’s no sense in going back over how wrong you were to do something so lame,” Shaw said, giving her the long version.

Even in the short time that Alex reconnected with Shaw, she knew to look at Root for help. “I meant…when I accosted her today.”

“You _accosted_ my sister?” Ayala said, getting up from the chair and not understanding any of this.

“Today?” Shaw huffed to Alex. “I thought you meant when you saved my life!”

“You _saved_ my sister’s life?” Ayala asked, really confused.

“It’s okay,” Martine assured her girlfriend from across the table, but Ayala was still standing.

“What the hell is going on?” the younger sibling asked her sister.

“Alex… sorta tased, zip tied and drugged me today,” Shaw whispered as she put her hand over Michael’s ear and pulled her into her chest. “She wanted to talk.”

“Isn’t that…sorta _your_ thing?” Ayala asked Sameen and then looked at Root, who smiling eyes confirmed that – indeed – it was.

“Yes,” Root said and was about to explain, too, but noticed that Ayala seemed to be very protective of her sister.

“What the hell is your problem?” Ayala asked Alex.

Now, Martine stood up in case she had to separate her girlfriend from the dinner guest. “Maybe we can just all sit down and talk about this?” Martine asked, but she was looking at Root.

“Yes,” Root said, thinking she didn’t want anyone upsetting Michael. “Let’s explain what happened,” she suggested and looked at Alex.

Alex drew a deep breath and began. “I knew your sister back in the day,” she started, “…and I had this crazy idea that I could track her down and talk to her. In my haste, I also thought I could impress her with some unusual tactics,” Alex said, and now that she heard the words out loud, she felt embarrassed. “I wouldn’t have believed it, Shaw, without seeing it; but you really have changed.”

“Yeah,” Shaw smiled as she bounced Michael on her lap. “You and Mommy did that to me, didn’t you?” she said in a sing song voice to the baby who laughed.

“So you kidnapped her; _and_ you saved her life?” Ayala asked, wondering where Root was in all of this.

“I’m really sorry,” Alex repeated. “I just didn’t think Shaw was capable of these drastic changes; no offense,” she added.

“None taken,” Shaw said.

Ayala listened, but she was still confused. “So…,” she said looking at Root, “…do I thank her or kick her ass?”

Root had to smile at her sister-in-law’s confusion, but she was pleased to see her protective nature erupt over Sameen.

“I think we should acknowledge that we are very grateful to Alex for saving Sameen…,” she started, and Shaw threw her head back and moaned. “…and accept her apology for today.”

Ayala wasn’t sure she approved, but she agreed with Root, nonetheless. Then, the _perfect_ revenge came to mind. “Did you tell the… guard dog?” she asked Martine.

“They’re upstairs,” Shaw said of Bear and Shadow.

“Right,” Ayala said, but her eyes burst with a scheming decision. One look and Martine knew exactly what her girlfriend was planning. She wasn’t quite sure the punishment fit the crime.

Even Isabelle was trying to size up where to stand on this when Root shot her a big grin to tell her it was okay; not to poison the guest’s food. She stared at Shaw to make sure she was okay with all of this.

“Look, to be honest, I had a harder time being saved than being kidnapped,” Shaw finally put in words.

“I’ll get you more quiches,” Isabelle answered, patting Shaw’s shoulder sympathetically – and she meant, _only_ for Sameen.

“Thanks,” Shaw answered, because she really liked them.

* * *

Dinner was finally served as Root gave Alex a good long chance to see how happy Sameen really was. As time when on, Alex even seemed to relax a little, which is exactly what Root wanted. Shaw kept a careful eye on her wife; knowing that she was setting everything up just the way she wanted. Root was very good at doing that.

Michael was very content in her infant seat, watching the five women talk. Finally, Isabelle served coffee and dessert in the living room and offered to get Michael ready for bed. Sameen reluctantly gave her daughter over.

“I appreciate you being so understanding,” Alex said to Root as they sat down.

“The night’s young,” Root smiled and for a minute, it almost sounded like she was kidding. But she wasn’t.

Root steered the conversation to what Alex was up to since she was back. She explained that she always had a knack for IT and pursued that. “I’ve been developing security gadgets,” Alex said, thinking Root would be interested. “Mostly counter-intelligence stuff.”

“Like wiping phones clean of their contents?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, yeah; sorry about that,” Alex said, remembering she had done it to Shaw’s phone.

Ayala just stared at her sister and then Root. She was amazed that both of them were giving this woman the benefit of the doubt.

Root was sitting right next to Sameen on the couch; so close in fact, that their legs were touching. “When Sameen told me about that, I must admit was I was intrigued,” the tech genius said, putting her hand on Sameen’s thigh and sitting back. “I’m guessing jewelry?”

“Yes!” Alex said, because no one had figured that out.

“Why don’t you come by BEAR tomorrow and give us a demonstration,” Root suggested.

Ayala was the first one to enthusiastically agree that was a wonderful idea. “You _should_ go tomorrow,” she said and Shaw looked at her.

“What is up with you?” she asked her sister.

“Nothing,” Ayala said, but couldn’t keep the devious look out of her eyes.

* * *

The small talk continued, until Alex felt it was safe enough for her to suggest it was time for her to go home.

“I really appreciate your understanding and patience, in all of this,” she said sincerely to Root.

“Hey, I’m the one you tazed…,” Shaw was about to complain, but knew Root didn’t want to hear how Alex used her tactics. “…and those other things.”

“Yeah, but you I can buy a beer for you to apologize,” Alex said and shook Shaw’s hand. It was an old marine tradition that buying another marine a beer was an acceptable form of apology.

Alex walked to the door and thanked them again. Martine and Ayala said they would walk her down.

Shaw stared at her sister, who was almost giddy with excitement.

“Remind me to ask my mother something,” Shaw asked Root when everyone left.

“What?” Root asked as she grabbed Shaw’s arm; pleased with how the evening went.

“I need to ask her if she ever dropped Ayala on her head when she was a baby,” Shaw explained.

Just then, Sameen noticed that Isabelle was carefully picking up the coffee cup that Alex had been holding. She wore purple gloves like the cops at crime scenes wear. Shaw watched as the chef carefully placed the cup in a clear bag and zipped it closed.

“What the hell?” Shaw asked.

“Thank you, Isabelle,” Root smiled as she accepted the bag with the evidence in it.

“You’re _training_ her?” Shaw asked surprised as Isabelle snapped the disposable gloves off and went into the kitchen.

“I didn’t want it sitting there too long,” Root explained and pulled Shaw into the library. There, she placed the cup close to a camera and turned to her keyboard.

“Alexandra Fitzpatrick…,” Root said as she read the data that appeared on the screen.

“Are you going to tell me what you and _Olivia Benson_ are doing?” Shaw asked, getting annoyed she was being left out of the caper.

Root knew how to make that scowl disappear with one sweet kiss on the lips. “I asked Isabelle to get the cup with Alex’s prints on them,” she started.

“I know that!” Shaw balked because she had figured that much out.

“And this…,” Root said, turning the screen towards her wife; “…tells me she’s exactly who she says she is.”

“I knew that, too,” Shaw said, because although it took her awhile, she did remember who the woman was.

“And now…,” Root continued, pressing on some more keys, “…the Machine knows who Alex Fitzpatrick is.”

“So, now the Machine will watch her?” Shaw asked.

“Yes, until we have what we want from Alex,” Root further explained.

“An apology for saving my life?” Shaw quipped, but Root didn’t think that was funny.

She reached over and pulled Sameen into her. “Do you understand how grateful I am that she did that?”

One look in those brown eyes that flashed the horror of what could have happened if Alex hadn’t done that was all it took. “I’m sorry, Root,” Shaw said, putting her arms around her to comfort her. “I know you are, and I guess, when you think about it, I am, too.”

Shaw reached up to kiss Root, calming her immediately and getting her mind off of unpleasant thoughts. “Let’s go to bed,” Shaw whispered to Root and her tone indicated sleep was not what she had in mind.

Root smiled and took Shaw’s hand as they went upstairs. They both looked into the crib to see a sleeping Michael. Then, they quietly changed and sneaked into bed, under the covers.

“Have you noticed Michael is sleeping through the night more?” Root whispered to Sameen.

“Yes, now I can think of _other_ ways to keep you up at night,” Shaw said, slowly demonstrating the one way she had in mind.


	28. BEAR's Secret Weapon

Alex walked down the block with her uninvited guards. One look at Martine and she understood that Root had insisted she make sure she made it to dinner. All in all, Alex thought the evening went well. It was as plain as day how happy Shaw was. Alex was happy to have reconnected with her friend.

“So, you’re Shaw’s sister,” Alex said when she couldn’t take the silence anymore. “She never mentioned having a sister.”

“I was a surprise,” Ayala said. “Not as big as you were, but I was.”

Alex had listened carefully to the woman at dinner and heard her distinct accent. “So, you grew up in Israel?”

“Yes, born and raised,” Ayala said and was trying to decide how she felt about this woman.

“So, you and Shaw have the same…?” Alex asked because Shaw never talked about her family.

“Mother,” Ayala filled in the blank.

All the time, Martine walked quietly, looking up at the street cameras and noticing them blinking. She smiled to herself, knowing her boss had everything under control.

“Well, I guess this is where we leave you,” Martine said, on an arbitrary block. “You know how to get to the office?”

“Yes, thanks,” Alex said. “Root didn’t say a time…”

“Nine; nine is perfect!” Ayala said because she wanted to get there first. “We’ll see you then.”

The women said goodbye to Alex and turned to walk uptown.

* * *

“I know what you’re up to,” Martine said, when Ayala grabbed her arm in an excited manner.

“You do not,” she tried to protest, but couldn’t stop grinning.

“I know _exactly_ what you’re doing,” Martine informed her.

“Well, what if you do,” Ayala all but pouted, “…it’s going to be great fun!”

“Not for Alex, it won’t be,” Martine confirmed.

Since Ayala was unsure of how she actually felt about the woman; she decided to err on the side of not caring just yet. “Anyway, she’s my sister’s faithful and devoted assistant; she should know what’s going on.”

“Are you sure Shaw _wants_ you to do this?” Martine cautioned the overenthusiastic sister.

“Maybe we should invite Fusco!” she said, ignoring the warning.

“I’ll visit you in the hospital,” Martine informed her girlfriend.

“Oh, pfft; I can outrun my sister any day,” Ayala harrumphed.

“Not if I’m holding onto you,” Martine teased.

“You know, some days I wonder where your allegiance really lies, Ms. Rousseau!” Ayala said, putting her hands on her hips.

“That must make you quite angst ridden,” Martine commented.

“It does; it really does,” said the woman in touch with her feelings.

Martine stopped and pulled at her girlfriend as they walked home. “Then, let me put your mind at ease,” Martine said softly. She leaned over to Ayala’s ear. “It’s Shaw; hands down,” she said and started to run, laughing when Ayala could not catch up.

* * *

Michael did sleep through the night, and while her parents could not say the same, it was a blissful slumber when it came. Root arose feeling wonderful; Shaw woke up …. hungry.

As the two dressed for work; Shaw felt it necessary to comment on Root’s decision the night before to involve Isabelle.

“I’m just saying that if she gets it in her head that espionage is enticing and wants to make a career change; well, that will be a sad day for us…,” Shaw said, and the thought of the woman not being their cook made her shudder.

“We would just hire another chef,” Root said… leading her wife exactly where she wanted her to go – easily.

“ANOTHER CHEF!” Shaw bellowed and then apologized to Michael for making her jump. “Do you hear this?” she asked the baby. “We can’t…there isn’t… anyone…,” Shaw stammered all the way downstairs, unable to complete her thoughts about how terrible an idea this was.

“You saw her; she did really well last night,” Root stoked the fire.

“See? She probably thinks she’s _Mata Hari_ and then _you’re_ gonna have to break it to her…,” Shaw said, her lips pursed as she shook her head. She felt it her duty to warn Root.

“What will you have to break to me?” Isabelle asked when Sameen realized they had walked themselves right into the kitchen. She didn’t expect to have this conversation in front of the woman.

“Sameen, what will we have to break to Isabelle?” Root asked, winking at the chef as she put Michael into her chair.

Shaw looked at Root – because she had just said it would be _her_ job to tell her; now it was falling in her lap. “She…would… have to…,” Shaw struggled.

Root didn’t want her wife upset, especially before breakfast.

“She doesn’t want you to be my CSI person,” Root summed up.

Shaw was relieved that Root said it, but it wasn’t exactly complete. “It can be disgusting work,” Shaw bolstered the argument. “It’s not all fingerprints.”

Isabelle looked at Root and could tell that this was, in fact, a serious concern for her wife. “I hope you’re not too disappointed,” Isabelle began, “…but I prefer to use my culinary skills over my crime scene skills any day.”

It was like music to Shaw’s ears. “You see, Root? I knew she wouldn’t want to do that kind of stuff,” Shaw said, sitting down now that she could finally eat.

“I am, however,” Isabelle continued, as she piled the turkey sausage links onto Sameen’s plate, “…available for the occasional clandestine mission.”

Shaw looked up at her and then at Root. “Uhkay, bud nod ad breadfast time,” she said, her mouth full of delicious food.

“Promise,” Isabelle said because she truly couldn’t imagine a more satisfying job than cooking for the woman who so appreciated her talents.

Now that Sameen was assured her favorite chef was not making a career change, the couple finished their breakfasts and got ready for work. Grace was coming to work with Harold and asked if she could watch Michael for the morning. It seemed everyone wanted more time with the baby.

* * *

Ayala and Martine were already at BEAR that morning.

“I know _what_ you’re doing and _why_ you’re doing it, but I don’t want you upsetting Janine,” Martine outlined before they met up with the assistant.

“I’ll ask her for her input,” Ayala suggested.

“Maybe we should ask Zoe Morgan to be there,” Martine thought through.

“Sure, invite the Pope for all I care; I just want Alex to get the _Janine_ -treatment,” Ayala explained.

* * *

Across town, in her lavish apartment, Zoe Morgan heard the text message arrive on her phone. “ _My presence would be greatly appreciated_?” she read out loud. Then she read the list of clues Martine felt certain would make the situation clear. “ _Shaw; old marine acquaintance; kidnapped her; someone about to tell Janine.”_

Martine had been right. That was all Zoe needed to read before making her way over to BEAR; just in time. “ _I hope you brought a tranquilizer gun_ ,” she texted back to Martine.

* * *

Martine insisted that Ayala wait until Zoe was in the building before talking to Janine. She nodded when Zoe texted that she was there.

“Janine,” Ayala said when she and Martine walked into her office area. “We need to talk.”

One look at the two women, and Janine was out of her chair. “Is Shaw okay? Where is she? I haven’t heard from her since yesterday.”

“Oh, brother,” Martine said, thinking this was a disaster in the making.

“No, no; she’s fine; she’s totally fine,” Ayala said, taking the worried woman’s hands and sitting her back down.

Martine thought that was a good start. But then Ayala added; “Well, she was fine after Root rescued her from being kidnapped!”

“Oh, geez, Ayala!” Martine said just as Zoe walked into the area.

“Shaw was kidnapped?” she asked calmly because she would have heard about it if it were true.

“Sort of,” Ayala said, taking her time. “It was more of a friendly abduction.”

“Who the hell would do that?” Janine demanded to know.

“Why would someone do that?” Zoe asked, realizing now why Martine asked her to come. The Fixer was now the Calmer. She sat next to her friend and took her hand. “I’m sure there’s an explanation, right, girls?”

“It was a woman who served with Shaw in the marines,” Ayala explained.

“She thought this would be something that Shaw would…you know…appreciate,” Martine tried and Janine shot her a look. “Cause it was stealthy and…oh, how the hell do I know?”

“She didn’t mean her any harm,” Ayala pointed out. “Even if she tazed, drugged and zip tied her.”

And just as Zoe was asking; “Isn’t that sort of Root and Shaw’s thing?” – Janine was out of her seat proclaiming loudly that – “That is Root and Shaw’s thing!”

“How dare someone use Root’s tactics on Shaw!” Janine said disgusted. “If I ever see this person…”

“Well, the reason I mentioned any of this…,” Ayala said slowly and Martine shook her head. “…is that the woman is coming here today. Root invited her!”

“Why would she do that?” Zoe asked and tried to get her friend to sit back down in the chair. “There’s more to this story,” she tried to tell her.

“Well, it turns out, back in the day, the woman saved Shaw’s life,” Ayala informed them.

“SHE DID NOT!” Janine spat because Shaw did the saving; she wasn’t saved! Everyone who drank the Kool Aid knew this!

“Shaw must hate her,” Zoe said, knowing her friend well.

“She did; but Root was caught between being angry at what she did, and grateful for what she did. True to her style; Root handled it all with grace and we all had dinner with her last night,” Ayala said.

“Shaw _ate_ with this woman?” Janine asked suspiciously.

“Root wanted her to see just how changed a woman my sister was; and it worked like a charm. She even apologized for getting carried away,” Ayala said truthfully.

“Everyone was really okay at the end of dinner,’ Martine confirmed.

“And you’re telling her this, why?” Zoe asked Ayala.

“Because I thought it would be good for Alex Fitzpatrick to meet the person who will track her down if she ever pulls anything like this again. You know, just in case,” Ayala said, smiling.

“You orchestrated this whole thing, didn’t you?” Zoe asked Ayala.

“Yes,” she admitted freely. “The dilemma is that while she abducted my sister, she also saved her life. If anyone can separate out the just punishment for both things – it’s our girl, here; Janine.”

As much as Martine, and now, Zoe, wanted to argue that this wasn’t a good idea; they saw Ayala’s point. If anyone could peel someone from their skin by harsh looks and interrogation tactics, it was the unassuming, petite woman who was already chomping at the bit.

“Are you actually ready for this?” Zoe just had to ask…. and then pleaded with Janine not to respond with the idiom that she was _born to do this_ , but she did.

“I was born ready for this!” she responded through gritted teeth.


	29. Hell Hath No Fury

Ayala explained to the _unleashed terror_ what the quandary was before releasing her. She told her that - while the woman had _abducted_ Sameen; she had also _saved_ her life. “You see why we’re all caught, right?” Ayala asked the woman who saw no such issue.

“Leave it to me,” Janine said.

Ayala stepped out of her way and allowed the woman to set out on her mission.

* * *

Alex’s timing couldn’t have been better; well, worse for her; better for Janine. The woman’s radar picked up on who the stranger was from down the hallway.

“I’m looking for…” Alex was explaining when Janine shot to her side.

“Right this way,” Janine smiled, but it was so forced that Alex almost didn’t move at first.

“Ms. Groves asked me to …,” Alex tried to explain and pointed to her authorized guest badge attached to her blazer.

“ _Right_ this way,” Janine repeated and pointed to the same conference room where she had dressed down Cole days before.

Peering over the partition and around the door, were Janine’s two coworkers and her friend.

“Are you _sure_ about this?” Zoe asked, because she was afraid they had _released the Kraken._

“Oh, I’m sure,” Ayala said confidently.

“Her voice sounds completely different,” Martine worried. “I mean, she’s even walking differently.”

“Yeah, more like Rambo,” Zoe said and shook her head. “Should I…?”

“No!” Ayala said from atop her perch. “We can watch from here. If there’s any worry, we’ll barge in. Let her take a couple of layers off that woman, and then we’ll intercede.”

“Are you sure Shaw will be okay with this?” Martine asked again because this was not Shaw’s style.

“She will be,” Ayala smiled, certain her sister would appreciate her efforts to right a wrong.

* * *

Her sister – at the moment - was busy saying goodbye to her daughter and wife by planting several kisses on them.

“Hey listen,” Shaw said before parting; “…everything aside, Alex is okay. She’s bright, so maybe you can use her.” Underneath everything, the bond between marines ran deep.

Root didn’t say anything since she wasn’t yet ready to commit on the woman. Like Ayala, she felt torn between not approving of Alex’s transgression yesterday – and feeling grateful for her heroic actions years before. “Okay,” Root said, kissing Sameen goodbye. She was going to do a little research into her invited guest before meeting with her.

* * *

Shaw decided not to feel worried about her former marine buddy’s visit. She trusted Root to handle the meeting with her usual cool, calm, and collected approach. She had no idea, of course, that the hands Alex was presently in – wanted to strangle her.

Getting off the elevator on her floor, Shaw ran into Fusco. “What? No donuts?” was how she greeted him.

“Nah, I’m _back_ on my diet,” he complained.

“I hate when you’re on a diet,” Shaw said, as if she had a say in this.

“Cause there’s less of me to love?” Fusco quipped.

“If you don’t have donuts, what are you doing here?” Shaw asked in earnest.

“Your sister told me to come,’ the detective replied.

“Do you do everything my sister asks?” Shaw countered.

“She said it was a _matter of great importance_ ,” Fusco repeated. Truth be told, his boss was having a mandatory meeting on sensitivity training and he was using any excuse not to go.

“What the hell could she be going that would be of great importance?” Shaw stopped in her tracks when she saw her sister and Martine peering over the partition wall; and Zoe Morgan’s head sticking out from the doorway. “Why do I think I should just let you take me to breakfast where we can talk about how you’re not going to cry cause you’re on a diet?” Shaw asked and insulted her friend all at once.

“What is up with those three?” Fusco asked suspiciously.

“My guess? No good,” Shaw said astutely.

* * *

Martine was the first one to jump down and come out into the hallway. Ayala didn’t bother and shouted her hello from above the partition wall.

“Shaw,” Zoe said and then said hello to Fusco. “Actually, now I understand why she invited you,” she said to the cop.

“Yeah?” he said.

“You are a _homicide_ detective, right?” Zoe commented.

“What are you two up to?” Shaw asked, because she was certain Martine would never be part of any harebrained idea.

Understanding immediately, Martine confessed; “Actually, I’m sort of part of this.”

“Sort of?” Shaw asked. “That’s not good. Let’s go,” she said, turning to Fusco because she wanted no part of this before her second breakfast.

“You better stay, Shaw,” Zoe said. “Your friend Alex is getting the third degree from your trusted…”

“Guard dog,” Ayala finished because Zoe would never call her that.

Shaw turned back and looked at Martine; whose head jerked toward the conference room to indicate where the whole thing was unfolding.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw moaned.

“Hey, Ms. _Mashugana_ ,” Fusco called out to Ayala and using one of the few Yiddish words he knew; “…next time have the courtesy to have donuts or something.” It was the least she could do if he was going to have to break up a fight.

“Did you… just call me – _mashugana_?” Ayala asked, not sure if she was impressed or insulted.

“One battle at a time, okay?” Martine asked her hot headed girlfriend. God, that woman could turn on a dime.

“Let me guess,” Shaw said, looking up at her sister; “Your idea?”

“Yes,” Ayala confirmed.

“Any chance you can get a leash for her?” Shaw asked Martine.

“Please don’t…,” Martine begged because her girlfriend seemed up for anything.

* * *

When Alex arrived that morning, she had no idea who the woman was who seemed strangely polite to her. She was assured that the meeting was going to take place in the conference room and led her there. She had no sooner stepped through the door when Janine slammed it shut and told Alex where to sit.

“Are you sure Ms. Groves asked you to meet me?” Alex asked because the woman was obviously upset. “Are you her assistant… or something?” she asked, as she watched the woman roll up her sleeves; one at a time.

Alex knew something was up when Janine leaned on the table, palms opened and announced; “I’m your _worst_ nightmare.”

“Excuse me?” Alex said and looked around for any other sign of life. She was certain she had seen her bodyguards from last night, but they ducked before she could say hello.

“We’re a very tight knit family here at BEAR,” Janine said. “What you do to _one_ ; you do to _all_.”

Alex was smart enough to catch on that this hostile greeting probably had something to do with yesterday.

“Listen...I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name,” Alex started.

“Sameen Shaw’s right hand,” Janine announced.

“Oh,” Alex said and figured this woman knew what happened from her angry response. “Listen, I don’t know if you know, but I was invited to dinner last night with your boss and Ms. Groves and we cleared everything up. I apologized for my rash actions; Shaw may or may not have forgiven me for saving her, but I promise you, everyone was okay at the end of dinner.”

“Saved her!” Janine scoffed. “I’ll ask Shaw about that; in the meantime, I’d like you to know that we don’t care for your treatment of her.”

“No, I get that; I get that,” Alex said, trying to recall her training on how to talk to someone who was hell bent on causing you harm…and perhaps, mentally unstable.

There was no doubt in Alex’s mind that, if she had to, she could take the petite woman and easily subdue her. But, she was not sure how much adrenaline was coursing through the overprotective woman’s blood – and what it might enable her to do. She was right – Janine was pumped up. She paced back and forth now, trying to decide what to do with the offender. It seemed only fair that she allow the woman to explain herself.

“What the _hell_ were you thinking?” Janine asked.

Hadn’t Alex already embarrassed herself by admitting what she was thinking? Why would she go through that again with an administrative assistant from hell?

“Look, I don’t know what your deal is…?” Alex said, “…but I’m here to see Ms. Groves.”

“My _deal_?” Janine said, because Alex’s defiance sent her over the edge. “My _deal_ is Sameen Shaw!” she shouted, getting in Alex’s face.

* * *

Now, the quintet of spectators watched through the glass window into the room as the drama unfolded.

“She _rolled_ up her sleeves?” Sameen asked.

“I taught her that; gives you time to organize your questions,” Fusco said, proudly.

Shaw just stared at him; wondering when this training took place…and why. “Why did you do this?” she then asked her sister, but didn’t move yet to stop it.

“Because none of us could decide if we were grateful or pissed off at this woman,” Ayala answered truthfully.

Shaw’s mouth opened to protest that this was ridiculous and that Ayala should mind her own business, when she had an idea.

One that would settle the matter for good.


	30. Evening the Score

A sly smile came over Shaw’s face as she approached the conference room. Aware of how carefully she had to handle this situation, she decided she had walked dirt roads littered with land mines that were less challenging. She had to let Janine know it was okay to step down now.  The short time she witnessed Janine’s verbal water-boarding;  reminded her of the time she had to defuse a bomb as seconds ticked away.

“Hey,” Shaw said, walking into the room where knives would have been dulled, cutting the tension.

“Oh, _thank_ God,” Alex said and let out a long sigh, expecting Shaw to put an end to this – immediately.

“How is it going?” she heard Sameen ask Janine instead.

Janine took this as her cue that Shaw was totally okay with this interrogation. “I can crack her,” Janine said, confidently.

“You can…what?” Alex asked, astounded.

Shaw looked over at her fellow marine and pursed her lips, sympathetically, and as to convey she was sorry she couldn’t do anything.

“This is insane,” Alex said and stood up, but as soon as she did, Janine moved forward. Nothing gave her confidence like having Shaw at her side.

“I thought they proved that torture never produces good Intel,” Shaw said and Janine had no idea what she was talking about; but, Alex did. “Well,” Shaw smiled devilishly; “… _almost_ never.”

“Shaw, you’re not going to stand there and let her…?” Alex said, and wasn’t quite sure what the woman was going to do.

“I was letting her know we don’t take kindly to you being abducted,” Janine said and Shaw’s head snapped to look at her because she was going to ask if they were in a western movie.

Instead; she turned to look at Alex and parroted; “They don’t take _kindly_.”

“What do you want me to do?” Janine asked her boss, without taking her eyes off of Alex.

Quiet filled the room as Shaw contemplated her next move and Alex stared at her; her expression asking – “ _Are you kidding me?_ ”

“Here’s the thing, Janine,” Shaw finally said. “There’s a marine code about saving your fellow soldiers in the face of battle; especially one where they’re up against a _formidable_ foe. So, technically, it’s my duty to save Alex here; you know, in spite of everything,” Shaw explained.

“Really?” Janine asked, just to be sure.

The rule was absolutely true. “I’m afraid so,” Shaw said, apologetically. “It’s my duty... to save her.”

“You? Are saving me?” Alex asked, because the Cheshire like grin on Sameen’s face told her there was more to this than met the eye.

“I guess,” Janine said, believing it because Shaw said it. “You’re okay with her being here, then?”

Alex’s eyes rolled to the back of her head because she had explained that she was invited there.

“Root thinks she’ll prove useful,” Shaw grinned.

“She said she _saved_ your life,” Janine said softly, leaning into Shaw.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Alex said.

“She did, but not from a fate worse than this,” Shaw declared.

“Okay, Shaw; _Uncle_. I give up,” Alex said, thinking her fellow marine was waiting for her concession.

“She said that she….a long time ago?” Janine asked and motioned her lips.

“YES! I KISSED HER! I KISSED HER AND I REGRET IT!” Alex balked.

“I guess that settles it, then,” Shaw said, shrugging her shoulders.

Janine wasn’t so eager to let this woman off easily, but since Shaw was okay with it; she would be, too. “Okay, but if you need me…,” Janine said, giving the woman one more hard glare.

* * *

With that, the self-appointed enforcer walked outside and closed the door behind her. Her work in there – was done. Ayala was the first to applaud, but Zoe, Martine and even Fusco, soon joined in.

“You did good, kid,” Fusco said, putting his arm around her.

“That was brilliant!” Ayala said and told Janine she was welcomed on any of her missions; something Martine was not sure was a good idea.

“Good job,” Martine said, shaking Janine’s hand.

But it was Zoe Morgan that Janine was waiting for. She wanted to know what Zoe thought; realizing for perhaps the first time that the woman’s opinion mattered very much to her. The woman stood there in her high heels, towering over Janine.  
Ayala was smiling that she made the perfect selection for the job; Martine was relieved no one was hurt; and Fusco was back to thinking about how hard dieting was. Zoe… had mixed feelings. It was as if she saw potential in someone who was all the wrong wrapping. But, there was no denying that the woman would go to any measure for Sameen Shaw.

“Shaw’s a lucky woman to have you as her friend,” Zoe smiled at the verbal assassin.

“Funny, that’s how I feel about having you… as my friend,” Janine replied.

“I think Shaw would agree with me that you earned yourself a long weekend. Why don’t we… go away somewhere…,” Zoe suggested, hoping to move their dinner dates up a notch.

“I’d have to check…,” Janine immediately responded because her first thought was not about herself. “But yes; I’d like that.”

* * *

Inside the conference room, Shaw was settling things, too.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Alex said, finally feeling like the nightmarish encounter was over. “I didn’t want to have to…,” she suggested, meaning she could take Janine.

“You wouldn’t have,” Shaw said in a very definite tone.

“That woman is…,” Alex was about to assess.

“That woman is my friend, Alex. You know the guts it takes to push you someone like you around? Well, she’s got that and more,” Shaw said.

Alex smiled and pushed back in the chair. She shook her head and said; “I never would have believed all these changes, Shaw; if I hadn’t seen them for myself. You are happily married, with a baby, and have all these friends. All this unusual behavior aside, I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Shaw said. “Now, we’re even. You saved my ass overseas; and I just saved you from a fate worse than death.”

Alex looked outside at the woman who – upon passing the window – gave Alex the signature Shaw warning of pointing her two fingers to her own eyes and then back at her. “You might be right, Shaw.”

* * *

Sameen emerged from the conference room, ready to take Alex to the more pleasant encounter with Root. “I’ll be right back,” Sameen said to her.

As was often the case when Lionel met someone in Sameen’s life, he felt it absolutely necessary to let them know – he was her BFF.

“Detective Fusco, NYPD,” he said, puffing out his chest and shaking Alex’s hand. “Shaw and I go way back.”

“O..kay,” Alex smiled, thinking there was no end to this parade of people.

“I was in the marines with her,” he pointed out. “After she got her medal of honor,” but this part he whispered because Shaw hated the notoriety.

“I knew her _before_ that all happened,” Alex said because she heard about what Shaw had done, but never did see her again.

“We’re tight,” Lionel said, and sniffed air through his nose and nodded his head.

“I…appreciate you telling me that,” Alex said and meant – thank you for just telling me and not locking me in a room to interrogate me.

* * *

“You I get,” Shaw said to her sister, “… but you two?” she noted to Zoe and Martine.

“Yeah,” Martine said, both apologizing and explaining how she, too, felt caught. “You know Janine was never in any danger, right?” she asked, meaning she had her eye on her the whole time.

“I wasn’t worried about her; but I can’t say the same for Alex,” Shaw replied.

“Speaking of trained assassins,” Zoe chimed in; “… I think yours needs a long weekend to decompress after this assignment.”

Sameen looked at her as if asking why she was telling her this. The Fixer shook her head.

“You know when you’re about to go on furlough, Shaw, you... need... something?” Zoe hinted.

“I swear to God; I’m stuck in the most annoying version of Jeopardy ever!” Shaw bellowed.

Zoe wasn’t going to just give Shaw the answer. She tilted her head in Janine’s direction.

“She wants your permission,” Ayala interpreted.

“It’s the least you can do,” Fusco chimed in; having returned from updating Alex.

“Fine!” Sameen conceded and walked into Janine’s office. Standing there, she caught Ayala motioning with her hand, encouraging her sister. “Oh, for…. You did great!” she said and Janine jumped up from her seat to hug Shaw. Shaw may not have been able to move her arms, but her eyes still cast a death glare at her sister over Janine’s shoulder. “You should take the rest of the day off…”

“But I couldn’t; there’s so much to do here,” Janine balked.

“No, I absolutely insist,” Shaw said halfheartedly. “I am going to Root’s office with Alex…,” she said and then mouthed – “ _after I kill you_ ,” to her sister for orchestrating this whole thing. “We can take care of…,” she said and looked at her assistant’s desk, unsure of what all that paperwork was, “… _that_ …next week.”

“Are you sure?” Janine asked again.

“Yes,” Shaw said and smiled. “Enjoy the weekend.”

“You okay with you know who?” Janine whispered.

“There are so many of them; could you narrow it down?” Shaw said of the people annoying her.

“Alex,” Janine said.

“She’s the least of my problems right now. Don’t worry,” Shaw said to her, “…Root will handle any issue with Alex.”

“Okay then; but you’ll call me if you need me?” Janine asked, getting her pocketbook as Zoe encouraged her to come. “We’re just going…where are we going?” she asked her friend.

“Boot camp,” Zoe quipped and winked at Shaw; mouthing ‘thank you’.

Janine went with her, but they could all hear her ask; “Wherever we go, has to have good cell reception, in case Shaw calls.”

“That woman needs deprogramming,” Ayala said and then caught the look on her sister’s face. “What?” she asked as if nothing had transpired.

“You caused all of this! Before breakfast!” Shaw informed her well intentioned sibling.

“At least I didn’t tell Mommy,” Ayala said in her defense.

“I’m going upstairs; when I come back, I hope you and Fusco have returned to your real day jobs; the ones that don’t include annoying the hell out of me!” Shaw commented. “Let’s go,” she said to Alex as they went upstairs.

“I’m getting hungry,” Lionel commented when he realized if he went back to the precinct, he’d still have to take the sensitivity class.

“I’ll take you to breakfast, Fusco,” Ayala said, feeling like their friendship just reached a new high.

* * *

Shaw was getting off the elevator on Root’s floor with Alex when they ran into Reese.

“You!” Shaw barked at him because he was the reason all of this happened. “How was your yo-ga class?” she asked, snidely.

“It was really good, Shaw,” he answered in his typical calm voice. “John Reese,” he introduced himself to Alex.

“You’re the reason for… for all of this…,” Shaw said, her hand in a large circulating motion.

“You seem tense, Shaw,” Reese said because the shortest distance between two points was under Shaw’s skin.

“Don’t…do not…Reese, I swear to God…,” she threatened and started to walk away, pulling Alex with her.

“I think you should come to the next class, Shaw,” Reese said as he walked away.

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said, not wanting to be impolite.

“Do not be nice to him!” Shaw commanded.

“You have more rules here then when you were in the marines, Shaw,” Alex laughed.

“Don’t make me save you twice in one day,” Shaw said and meant it.

* * *

Root was well prepared for her meeting with Alex. By the time Janine’s meeting was over; Root had combed through every available source of information on the guest. Fortunately for Alex, Root found nothing unsavory.

It would seem, finally, Alex’s day was looking up.


	31. New Beginnings

Shaw burst through Root’s door announcing under no circumstances was she to authorize or mandate company yoga classes. Shaw’s tense state alone was reason enough for Root to consider it.

“And be easy on Alex, here,” Shaw implored. “Janine got to her first.”

“Oh, I see,” Root smiled and shook Alex’s hand. “I’m happy to see you survived.”

“Barely; I _saved_ her,” Shaw said, in case there was any doubt.

“She did,” Alex concurred because she knew Shaw wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost any of your stubbornness.”

“Pfft,” Shaw dismissed her.

“Well, Alex; I’ve been doing my homework and I’m pleased with what I see so far,” Root said, inviting Alex and Shaw to sit at the table in her office. “Tell me about your device.”

“Well, its main component is semi-conductor chip, concentrated with a wireless charge. Syncing it, means it can download information from anything it comes into contact with, while wiping the content clean from the original source. Not strong enough for computers, just yet,” Alex said, taking out the ring that she wore to Cole’s.

“It then downloads it to your phone?” Root asked.

“Yes,” Alex confirmed.

“My phone is working though,” Shaw pointed out.

“I just scrambled yours; made it appear inoperative. It’s time released to return to functional after a set time,” Alex explained.

“We’re working with a developer who has an app that can pair with another phone,” Root shared and was speaking of Genrika’s own invention.

“That’s interesting; gives you real time functionality of the other phone?” Alex asked.

“Yes; in case you need to see who they’re calling or what they’re saying in texts,” Root said.

“All of this sounds like BEAR is in the spy business,” Alex pointed out.

“Something like that,” Root smiled. “Who has approached you about your device?”

“No one, really; I mean, I haven’t exactly advertised it,” Alex explained. “Just something I have been tinkering with for a while.”

“I think we can offer you an enticing proposition, Alex,” Root said and Sameen smiled at what a smooth businesswoman her wife was. “We’ll help you get it patented; give you some space here to develop other ideas you might have, and elicit government contracts for your device.” And as if that wasn’t already a sweet deal; Root added; “You can work remotely if that feels safer to you.” She meant Janine.

“Well, I didn’t expect this,” Alex confessed, given the way she reunited with Sameen.

Sameen smiled looking at Root – thinking how kind she was to someone who obviously had evoked mixed feelings. Oddly enough though, Sameen did catch Root looking at Alex as she reviewed papers. When Root felt that the guest had enough information to think over, she suggested that Alex come back to her with a decision.

“I want to thank you, both,” Alex said, finally getting past her embarrassment over the way she handled things. “I really appreciate this.”

“Our pleasure,” Root smiled and shook her hand.

* * *

Shaw walked her to the elevator and came back to Root’s office. “Well, you were much nicer than Janine was to her,” Shaw laughed.

“That’s because I decided something before she came,” Root said, invading Shaw’s personal space and pulling her into her.

“Oh?” Shaw said, liking the feel of Root’s body so close to hers.

“I checked her out and everything seemed to confirm that she was simply acting on an old infatuation,” Root said.

“Can I take it you don’t like anyone being _infatuated_ with me?” Shaw teased. She swore she saw tiny flames flare up in those light brown eyes.

“Don’t mistake my graciousness for benevolence,” Root said.

“Really? Because I thought that was very nice of you,” Shaw pointed out.

“Nice; yes; but I watched her to see if there was any residual embers left when she looked at you,” Root assured her wife.

“And?” Shaw asked, already knowing if Root saw anything, Alex wouldn’t have made it out of the building.

“It would seem seeing you so happy has put any doubt to rest for your marine buddy,” Root said confidently. Just to be certain, Root’s hands now traversed the length of Sameen’s sides, tightly.

“So, no embers?” Shaw pressed.

“Did I let her leave of her own volition?” Root asked, her eyebrow raised.

“You did,” Shaw said, as Root pulled her in harder.

“Did Janine rough her up?” Root laughed when she thought about what that encounter must have been like.

“She did, but I told her to take the rest of the day off. I think she and Morgan are going away or something,” Shaw reported.

“That’s nice,” Root said, thinking if anyone could handle the overzealous woman, it would be Zoe. “Maybe we should take the rest of the day off, too. We can get Michael and take her to Central Park.”

“I like the way you think,” Shaw said, and offered to pick up sandwiches at Parks Deli in the employee lounge to take.

* * *

Nothing increased Shaw’s appetite like fighting for her lunch.

“I want two sandwiches, today,” she informed the woman who served her lunch almost every day.

“Two?” the woman asked suspiciously.

“Are you running low? Is there a limit?” Shaw asked because she wasn’t in the mood.

“You never ask for two,” the woman said and eyed her suspiciously.  "Why are you asking for two?"

“One is for Root,” Shaw said defensively.

“Oh, for Root!” the woman said and did something Sameen rarely saw her do; she smiled. “I make hers special.”

“What about mine?” Shaw barked because she was the loyal customer.

“Yours the same as every day,” the woman cracked. “Extra mayo,” she said, just to annoy the life out of her favorite customer.

“If you even put that mayo near my sandwich,’ Sameen yelled, leaning over the counter to make sure.

On the other side of the room, Root was getting the baby set for their walk.  “Mommy is getting us lunch and then we’ll go to the park,” Root was telling Michael as she readied her for the outing. She purposely left out the part where the child’s mother was losing it over the idea that an unauthorized, and clearly prohibited, ingredient might be included.

* * *

Zoe Morgan was good at putting together last minute excursions. Her job often required that she book a room or be somewhere with little notice. She convinced Janine that they could stop and buy whatever they needed on the way to their destination; a beautiful estate in a secluded area of Chester, New York; an hour and half away from Manhattan. The farther along Zoe’s roadster sped on the interstate highway, the less relaxed Janine got about her decision.

“I think I had papers there for Shaw to look at; I never told her,” Janine fretted.

“And is it legislation that has to be passed before midnight?” Zoe asked, thinking she had her work cut out for her.

“No, it’s something Reese came up with about yoga classes,” Janine said, fingering her phone and wondering if she should call.

“I can reach across and take that phone and toss it out the window, _or_ you can put it in your purse and enjoy the scenery,” Zoe suggested.

Janine’s head turned quickly to see if Zoe was kidding. She wasn’t.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Janine repeated.

“The fact that you think taking a spontaneous trip to a spa resort where they are going to pamper you and feed you to your heart’s desire… is exactly why this is a good idea,” Zoe said and put her hand on Janine’s arm. “Trust me, okay?”

The truth was, there was something about the older woman that Janine trusted very much.

“Okay,” she finally agreed and slipped her phone into her bag.

“It’s on vibrate, isn’t it?” Zoe smiled.

“Just…you know… in case,” Janine admitted.

Zoe decided she could fight the woman, which would be no fun for anyone; or she could possibly come up with some things that would take her mind off her boss.

What in the world that would be, was yet, a mystery to Zoe.

But she was up for the challenge.


	32. Lovers and Other Strangers

Maybe it was the lightheaded feeling of being on a diet for twenty-four hours straight; or the fact he didn’t think he could sit through another sensitivity training session, but whatever the reason was, Fusco had agreed to go to eat with Shaw’s sister. Their only common denominator was Sameen; and Fusco was protective of her, even when it came to this sibling.

“So, this nickname thing; it’s something you do?” Ayala asked as they waited online for their food. “Do you like falafels?” she segued.

“Yes, it’s a gift; and if it’s fattening, I like it,” Fusco lamented.

“It’s very fattening,” Ayala said of the deep-fried dish. “Maybe tabbouleh,” she said, thinking the salad was a better choice for the weight conscious man.

“God bless you,” Fusco said because he had no idea what she was talking about.

“You’re a funny man, Detective Fusco,” Ayala said in what seemed to Fusco to be one of the longest conversations they ever had.

“I have my moments,” he replied and stared at the concoction of cracked wheat, tomatoes, cucumbers, and parsley, that she put on his tray. “Is this edible?”

“You’re a meat and potatoes kind of guy, I bet,” the Israeli accented woman said smiling as she chose a table for them to sit at.

“Yeah, I used to be,” Fusco said. “Is this edible, really?”

“Would I give you something you couldn’t eat?” Ayala asked her dining buddy.

Fusco stared at her for a minute. If there was anything about Lionel Fusco that you needed to know; it was that he always said what he was thinking. “I really don’t know,” he responded truthfully. Then, he stared some more as Ayala looked at him.

As far as speaking the truth; Lionel was sitting with his equal.

“What does that mean? You think I’d poison you?” Ayala asked as she started to eat her food. Like her sister, very little interrupted her eating.

“No, not poison,” Lionel said as he gave more thought to what he meant. “I’m not sure; maybe I think you’re ADD or something.”

“ADD,” she repeated. “Like lack of attention?”

“Yeah, like that,” Fusco said, taking the first mouthful and slowly trying to decide if he liked it. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t deep fried falafel, but it wasn’t bad.

“I think you mistake my youthful exuberance for this ADD, no?” Ayala proffered.

Lionel thought it over. “No, I think it’s Attention Deficient Disorder.”

“I have hurt stronger men than you for saying less,” Ayala said from across the table, but there wasn’t anything threatening in her voice.

“Yeah? I’ve eaten worse food with better company,” Lionel shot back and then smiled.

Ayala was beginning to understand this man’s sense of humor and laughed.

It was the beginning of a new relationship for Shaw’s best friend and her sister. One that she may, or may not, approve of.

* * *

The sun was glorious that afternoon as Zoe and Janine walked into the Penthouse Suite of the resort. Their recently purchased bathing suits were waiting for them there.

“I guessed your size,” Zoe said, tipping the bellhop even though he only carried up one small bag.

Janine walked into the spacious area and gazed out onto the private balcony that overlooked the distant mountains. The room smelled of orchids and there was a large basket of fruit on the table, welcoming the guests.

“I get the sense they know you,” Janine said astutely of the warm welcome they received upon their arrival.

“I have that kind of face,” Zoe smiled and said no more. Truth was, this was Zoe’s escape place; one she rarely, if ever, brought anyone to. In her line of business, you needed a place you could get away from it all.

“Look at that pool!” Janine marveled when she caught sight of it. “You know, Shaw saved me from the lake in Central Park once.”

“Only _once_?” Zoe said smiling. “Let’s go down to the pool and have something to eat.”

The women changed into their suits and covers and went to the pool. Basking in the warmth and the quiet, Zoe ordered two drinks and appetizers. For a woman who had several years on her guest, no one would believe the Fixer’s real age. Genetics and time had both been very good to her.

“Do you like what you do?” Janine asked, noticing how much attention the older woman received from strangers.

“Some days,” Zoe answered truthfully.

“Shaw says you’re very good at what you do,” Janine shared.

That was the _second_ time within a short span the woman’s name was mentioned.

“I’ll tell you what,” Zoe said, taking the two drinks and handing one to her guest. “Every time you say Shaw’s name; you have to take a sip of this drink, okay?”

“What?” Janine asked, not sure this was a good idea.

“You’ll either be sober and we can talk about other things; or you’ll be drunk,” Zoe explained.

“I can…I don’t have to… I can go without...,” Janine protested, but couldn’t quite say the entire thought.

Then, Zoe had another idea. She sat up in her lounge chair sideways and faced the reclining Janine. “Okay, tell me what it is about Shaw that has you so infatuated,” Zoe asked; thinking if she got it out of her system, maybe she could stop.

“Wait, do I still have to drink when I say her name?” the confused rule follower asked.

“No, but I might,” Zoe said, wondering how to unleash this woman from her fixation.

“Okay,” Janine agreed and took a deep breath. For the next thirty minutes, without so much as a long pause, the woman told how she and Shaw first met and how there was something electric about their first meeting. The fact that she had been subdued and undressed in the ladies room and woke up in Shaw’s clothing, might have had something to do with this. “She’s got a magnetism, which I came to understand over time, isn’t sexual; it’s just she’s an amazing person.”

Somewhere around her second martini, Zoe Morgan decided her plan was backfiring. Instead of Janine running out of adjectives to describe Sameen; she was getting energized to think of more stories.

“It’s not that I don’t admire you devotion to the woman; and I get it, Shaw’s an amazing person, but I wonder where _you_ are in all of this,” Zoe said.

“I’m here,” Janine assured her friend.

“I really hope you are,” Zoe said, smiling over at Janine.

And maybe that was what Janine liked so much about Zoe. She zoomed in on her; asking about her - without Shaw. So much of Janine’s life was tied up in her job that she rarely thought about life outside of BEAR; outside of working for Sameen Shaw.

There was an innocence about Janine that Zoe couldn’t help but feel attracted to. The Fixer was used to people who lost their morals or threw them aside for greed or lust. Being with a person who rarely waivered from their virtues was new and Zoe liked it. Janine reminded her of the best in people.

“You think I’m obsessed with Shaw, don’t you?” Janine asked when the final sip of her drink made her lips loosen up.

“I’m not sure if… _obsessed_ is the word,” Zoe said, wondering what word she would use if not that one.

“Shaw just takes life by the horns, you know? I mean, I wish I could do that; not care about everything in its place or what time everything is,” Janine said. “I like being helpful to her.”

“Listen, Janine,” Zoe said, pulling her sunglasses down over her nose; “…Shaw’s damn lucky to have you; I’ve always said that. I understand why you admire her; I just think there are things about you that she admires, too.”

“Yeah?” Janine said and if pressed, she might have been able to name one or two.

“There’s a lot about you that I … I mean Shaw; Shaw, too … likes... about you,” Zoe said, feeling like she was back in high school; unable to express her feelings eloquently.

Janine listened, and realized how kind the woman had been listening to her talk about the woman she admired. That, Janine decided, took a lot of patience. She sat up and turned to her hostess.

“I like you, Zoe Morgan,” Janine said with full conviction. “In fact, I like you a lot.”

Zoe turned to stare up at her. “ _Now_ , we’re getting somewhere,” she smiled, as she started to think this was the start to a very nice weekend.

* * *

Root and Shaw enjoyed their lunch in the park and then walked Michael around in her carriage. People who approached to admire the adorable faced baby were quickly asked if they had any contagious diseases; had traveled outside of the country; and asked when the last time they washed their hands. Few people stayed to comply, instead admiring from afar.

“Do you wonder what she’ll be?” Shaw asked as she gazed down at her daughter.

“Healthy and happy, I hope,” Root answered.

“Sure,” Shaw agreed, “…but I wonder if she’ll play soccer or softball or hockey…”

“Maybe she won’t…,” Root was about to suggest that their offspring might not want to play sports, but the horror in Shaw’s eyes stopped her. “… decide until she’s out of kindergarten.”

“That’s a long way off,” Shaw commented.

“Five years,” Root informed her.

“What? Five? Five years?” Shaw asked, stopping and holding onto the carriage. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Root answered.

“That’s not a lot of time, Root. She can hardly hold her head up,” Shaw worried.

“Oh, I don’t know; I think she’s learning a lot,” Root countered.

“Really? Like what?” Shaw panicked.

“Well, she’s noticing that when she drops the toy off the table, you run over and pick it up and wash it off; sterilizing it before giving it back,” the astute mother summed up.

“She puts everything in her mouth,” Shaw defended her actions.

“She’s like you in that regard,” Root teased and touched Sameen’s bottom lip. “But she also knows you’ll do it.”

“You’re saying my daughter is…playing me?” Shaw asked.

“No, she’s connecting dots. She’ll be more than ready for school,” Root said calmly and Sameen liked that one of them felt sure about this.

“Oh, good,” Shaw said.

“She won’t play you until she’s well into first grade,” Root teased.

“Not funny, Root. You say these things because you think you’re funny, but you’re not,” Shaw complained. “I don’t know why no one tells you this. Maybe because you’re the boss, but someone should tell you.”

“You just did,” Root said, kissing the pouting lips. “Let’s go home.”


	33. Well, That's New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to all who have posted and read along. I love your feedback and ideas. Mez64 suggested Michael communicate with the dogs. Angela, Aidyl and others suggested Fusco and Ayala team up. Here's what I came up with. Thank you to all.  
> PS - I've always envisioned Gal Gadot (Much shorter, of course) as Shaw's sister; Ayala.

There wasn’t a plan Zoe Morgan didn’t put in place that was not methodical in its preparation and timing. Careful calculations were what made her as successful as she was. But the job came with some downside, too. The woman had spent years inventing the veneer that people saw when looking at her; smart, beautiful, cool, calm, and very calculating. Her job dictated that she be the consummate actress; artfully playing roles that got the assignment done. No one saw past that. John Reese did once; in a rare moment when Zoe was feeling vulnerable. But as soon as she thought she might actually care for him, she shut it down and cut him off. That was a long time ago. Any fool could see that what Reese needed was a stable, strong woman like Joss Carter.

Still, there wasn’t a league out there that Zoe was ever out of. She was a chameleon – able to morph into whatever the situation called for. And yet, strangely enough, she was presently feeling unsettled. Maybe because, for once, Zoe Morgan actually cared what the other person thought.

And she wasn’t acting.

Two drinks later, with several Shaw-stories under her belt, Zoe suggested that they return to their room and dress for dinner. Janine was about to remind her hostess that she didn’t have any clothes, other than her work ones, when a rack of dresses appeared in their hotel suite.

“You’re spoiling me,” Janine said and tried to sound like she was chastising Zoe; but she wasn’t. “I want to pay half of whatever this weekend costs,” she insisted.

Zoe smiled because she knew the woman simply had no idea what the expenses of this place were. “ _Where_ have you been?” Zoe asked out loud without thinking. She meant she was wondering where this woman was all this time that she seemed to somehow escape life’s prickly side; the side that makes most of us sarcastic and hard.

Janine took it to mean – she was inexperienced. Which, by many standards, she was. “I’ve been around,” she answered unconvincingly. But Janine didn’t want her friend to think she meant she was skilled, since that would be a lie. “Well, not around, around,” the younger woman corrected herself.

Zoe’s timing was all off, too. She wanted to make the first move, but Janine looked like the kind of person who would implode if it were the wrong move.

* * *

“You’re an interesting mix,” the Fixer commented when they were getting in the elevator to go to dinner.

“A mix?” Janine asked, dressed in a cream dress that she chose off the rack that hugged her body. She was in similar colored shoes that brought her to Zoe’s height.

“I’ve seen you fight for others; the waitress that you defended, remember?” Zoe said of the night they all went out and Janine did such a thing.

“Yeah, some insight; turned out to be a traitor,” Janine said, her voice filled with disgust at her inability to read people. “I should have known…”

“Stop,” Zoe said, and gently put her hand on Janine’s wrist. “We were all there; even Shaw; and no one knew that woman was setting us up.”

Janine’s eyes were looking over at Morgan; but electricity had shot up her arm and spread throughout her body from that warm touch. Her throat got very dry when she tried to speak and she was certain she was lightheaded. There were so many things she wanted to say; but all she could manage was –

“I thought you were so much taller.”

Zoe smiled because she got that a lot. “That’s just the reputation that precedes me,” she answered, as the doors opened and she waved her hand for Janine to go first.

“ _God, she is so smooth_ ,” Janine thought to herself.

* * *

“Grrrr,” Shaw uttered, looking at her phone, as they made their way into the apartment.

“You okay?” Root asked as she changed Michael, and then placed her between her legs as she sat on the living room floor.

“Uncle Lionel is such a pain; yes he is,” Shaw said, now sitting in front of Root so she could play with her daughter.

“Does he need you for something?” Root wondered.

“He needs me for a lot of things,” Shaw said with conviction. “But not now, right?” she asked Michael who put her fist in her mouth and squealed.

Just then, Bear and Shadow came back from their walk with Daan; their trusted – pet.

‘ _He’s doing much better_ ,’ Shadow barked to Bear, because the older dog had explained it was their job to train him. ‘ _Easier to train than Shaw_.’

As the two dogs appeared, Shaw blocked their path to Root and Michael. “That’s as far as you go,” Shaw said gently to the canines. “I can’t even begin to imagine where those mouths…,” she started, but her present height meant she was on the dog’s level. If they couldn’t have Root and the baby, they’d take Shaw. They immediately started to lick Shaw’s face, which of course, disgusted her and she tried in vain to get them away. She begged, and then demanded, they stop, but this only enticed them more.  
Now, Daan could have given them the order to stop as he was leaving; and Root could have tried to make them cease; but it was Michael who caught the dogs’ attention. Well, Bear’s anyway.

“ _STOP_!” Michael yelled, but of course it sounded like a human scream. Except to Bear – who swore he heard the word the baby intended.

Bear stopped immediately and told Shadow to do the same.

‘ _Did you hear that_?’ he barked to Shadow as they allowed Shaw to get up.

‘ _I know_!’ Shadow barked. ‘The little one’s voice is so high pitched; it hurts my ears!’

Apparently, Shadow could not communicate with humans; only Bear. ‘ _No, she said something_ ,’ he said, looking at the baby.

‘ _They’re always saying stuff_ ,’ Shadow complained.

Shaw was sitting up now, spitting out dog hair and possible saliva in disgust. “That was so…,” but all she could do was shudder.

 _This_ made the baby laugh.

So, Bear tested his theory. He sat right down next to Shaw and ignored her multiple warnings that if he touched her, she’d take away every chewy toy in the house. He waited until the baby’s eyes were on him; then, he leaned over and licked Shaw’s face again. This sent Sameen reeling backwards as she tried to cover her face, but Bear wasn’t watching. He was looking at Michael.

“ _NO_!” Michael screamed.

That… sent Bear running; Shadow closely behind.

* * *

‘ _The little one talks_ ,’ he kept repeating as he paced the kitchen.

‘ _She doesn’t eat from a bowl, eithe_ r,’ Shadow added as another oddity she noticed about the two legged people. ‘ _And she can’t stand by herself; what’s up with that_?’

* * *

Ordinarily, dog kisses would not have upset Shaw; but she was bordering on a germaphobe now that Michael was here. “I have to …,” she said, twirling her finger around her whole face.

“Mommy didn’t like those doggie kisses, did she?” Root asked the baby who felt like she had stopped the whole thing.

Michael squirmed, facing Root’s breast to indicate she was hungry. Root turned her in her lap so she could feed.

‘ _That is another weird thing_ ,’ Shadow said when they came back into the living room. Bear personally liked the way that Root spoke so softly and gently to Michael when they did this.

‘ _Are you serious?’_ Bear yapped quietly. _‘Don’t you remember being a puppy?’_

 _‘_ I was taken away pretty early,’ Shadow reminded him.

‘ _So you weren’t breast-fed_?’ Bear asked in amazement because he remembered being part of a litter.

‘ _No_ ,’ Shadow answered.

‘ _This explains so much_ ,’ said the wise Belgium Malinois.

* * *

Shaw’s phone vibrated again, but she was too busy washing her face and rinsing her mouth out with mouthwash to hear.

Which put Fusco in a tough spot.

“Come on, Detective; face it, she’s too busy to play cops and robbers with you,” Ayala said, sitting on the end of Fusco’s desk at the precinct.

“It’s not cops and robbers; well, technically it is, but these robbers are tough sons-of-bitches,” Fusco said of the case that came across his desk.

“Why do you insult their mothers, instead of them?” wondered the woman who was not used to American slang. “And are there no females in this group?”

All good questions, but Lionel was finding them very annoying.

“What do you need Shaw for, anyway?” Ayala asked. Martine and Reese had gone to a security convention in Atlantic City and the younger woman was bored.

“She has a way of…you know…charming her way into places that wouldn’t let me in,” Fusco said and with each word, part of his brain yelled that this was not a good idea. “Where the hell is Carter when I need her,” he said out loud. He knew Carter would tell him straight out this was a bad idea.

“So I will fill in for Shaw,” Ayala suggested and immediately saw Fusco’s reaction. “Oh, it’s okay, Detective; I don’t mean I can actually fit in her shoes or be your bowling buddy. I just meant, I’m free and she’s not and maybe I can get you in where you want to go.”

“WHAT?” Fusco asked, because the two hemispheres of his brain were fighting this out in his head.

“I’ve been cleared to work at BEAR; the NYPD has cleared BEAR employees to help out, so all is good, no?” she asked making it sound like it was simple.

“I don’t know,” Fusco said, looking at his phone and praying Shaw would call so he could at least ask her.

“Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy,” Ayala said, using one of the idioms she heard in a movie. With that, she jumped off his desk and motioned for Lionel to hurry up.

“Don’t use that term,” Fusco demanded because this was serious police work. “And I’m not sure…”

“Come on, Detective; it will be fun to work together,” Ayala said – like they were going to a baseball game.

“This is not fun; this is police work!” Fusco shouted as the woman sashayed passed the front desk.

“Can I call you Fusco?” the woman who saw no issue in doing this.

“No! Call me… you know, you’re bossy like your sister?” he shouted, following her outside.

Ayala thought about that. “I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she decided.

“Well, it’s not!” Fusco corrected her. “This is going to be…hey, I’m driving,” he shouted and Ayala slowly got out of the driver’s seat.

“Whatever you say, boss,” Ayala said, her hands up in the air.

“I’m not your boss; okay, maybe I am, but…” Fusco said, tripping over his own words.


	34. Forging New Bonds

It wasn’t only the rich cuisine that was so new for Janine that night; it was also the fact that Zoe kept the conversation focused on her. And she did it so well, the younger woman hardly realized they had spent the better part of their salads and entrée’s doing it.

“So, you’re one of five kids? I wouldn’t know what to do with that many siblings,” Zoe laughed because she had been an only child.

“Four brothers!” Janine shook her head. “I’m close to them now, but there was a time when I didn’t like any one of them!” Zoe watched as her guest laughed, and couldn’t help but doubt that this woman didn’t like anybody.

“I guess they were pretty protective?” Zoe asked, wondering where the younger woman got such a fierce protective nature. And then Janine uttered _four_ words that put a lot of the pieces together for Zoe.

“After my mom died…,” Janine said, and smiled to hold back tears that still managed to push forward, even after all these years.

Zoe put down her fork and reached her hand across the table to grab Janine’s. But the younger woman wasn’t going to allow Zoe to misunderstand.

“Thanks, it was hard, but – you know – we got through it. We’re close now and that helps. My father remarried and we like her, so that’s good,” Janine laid out her family history. “I know what you’re thinking…,” she said, dabbing her mouth with the linen napkin and putting her hands in her lap.

“You do?” Zoe said, pulling her hand back across the table and taking a drink of wine because she wasn’t even sure what she was thinking.

“I know most people think of me as naïve or quirky. They think I’m _obsessed_ with Shaw, but it’s not that. I like Shaw, don’t get me wrong. I mean, I like _everything_ about Shaw. But I like being helpful; I like that I can help someone like Shaw – who most people think is invincible. So, I’m not so innocent, you see. I’m sorta _using_ Shaw in a sense,” Janine confessed.

Zoe wasn’t buying this theory for one hot second. “Honey, I think you need to corral some of those runaway thoughts of yours,” the Fixer suggested as she sat back in her chair and looked at the angelic apparition across from her.

“I don’t think so,” Janine argued weakly.

_Zoe spent her life trying to right the wrongs of individuals who did bad deeds, while professing they were really moral people. It was rare to meet a really good person – doing her damnedest to convince her she was really bad. If anything, Janine’s attempts only endeared her more to her hostess._

“It’s a good thing you get along with those brothers,” Zoe smiled as she resumed her eating.

“How come?” Janine asked.

“I’d hate to think what Shaw would do to anyone giving you a hard time,” Zoe proffered.

“You have to stop talking about Shaw so much,” Janine teased and light eyes beamed across the table, melting whatever logical thought Zoe Morgan had left in her head.

* * *

Shaw’s name was being mentioned somewhere else that night. As Fusco and Ayala sat in his car, outside a club downtown, he was explaining to her how stakeouts work.

“Are you _sure_ I’m supposed to bring donuts?” Ayala asked, suspicious of this tradition.

“Yes, the rookie always does and since you insisted on learning how we do this, you have to bring the donuts. Did you put sugar in this coffee because I’m sorta on a diet,” Fusco asked.

Ayala nearly choked on her bite of carrot which she had with her. “Are you kidding…oh, no; you’re not,” she said, clearing her throat.

“I was until you brought these donuts,” Fusco argued.

“But you said… I had to!” Ayala argued, thinking there was logic involved.

“I know, that’s why I’m having one,” Fusco said, feigning disgust at having to comply.

“ _This_ is why Shaw calls you a pain in the ass?” Ayala asked and she was really asking.

“What? When did she call me that?” Fusco bellowed.

“ _When_?” the woman retorted and she meant it would be easier to list the times Shaw didn’t call him one.

“Let me tell you something about your sister,” Fusco said out of total frustration.

“Yes?” Ayala smiled, all ears because she truly was interested.

As soon as Lionel heard those words, he knew he better shove another donut into this mouth – for the sole purpose of keeping peace. “Why aren’t you having one?” he asked suspiciously. “They’re not made from meat.”

“No, they’re made from artery clogging fat,” Ayala pointed out and drew a glare.

“Here’s the second thing about _stake_ outs – and I hope that word don’t offend your vegan sense – but, you’re not supposed to annoy the other person you’re locked up with in the car,” the detective pointed out.

“Stakeout, vegan,” Ayala genuinely laughed. “You’re funny.”

Fusco looked at her to make sure she meant it; and she did. “I have my moments,” he said, turning his attention back to the black car that just pulled up to the club.

“Shaw thinks you’re funny,” Ayala shared and that totally distracted Lionel.

“Really?” he asked sincerely.

“Yes, really. She’s told me that herself,” the woman said, looking at the occupants of the car as they exited. “Our guys?”

“What?” Lionel asked because the fact that Shaw said something nice about him was throwing him off. “No, I don’t think so,” he refocused and looked through his binoculars.

Silence filled the space between them as the volunteer crunched on her carrots and the detective smiled.

“You called me _mashugana_ ,” Ayala reminded the man whose favorite hobby was giving people nicknames.

“It fit,” Lionel said.

“You know a lot of Yiddish?” Ayala asked.

“I know _nosh_ , because I like to do it,” Lionel laughed. “Oh, I know _kvetch_ because it is all your sister does when she’s with me.”

That made Ayala laugh, but not take offense. She was beginning to see what real affection there was in this bond between him and her sister. “Do you know - _mensch_?” she asked.

“Maybe I heard it, but I’m not sure,” Fusco admitted.

She could have given him the definition of the word as an ‘ _honorable and decent man_ ’, but instead she simply replied; “You’re one.”

“Oh, yeah?” Fusco asked, not sure if it was a compliment or not.

“How will we know when our guys get here?” Ayala asked, turning her attention back to the club entrance.

“Tiger tattoos on their necks; most of them are in ponytails,” Fusco shared. “Hey, I’m glad that you and your sister are getting along.”

“Yeah,” Ayala said, focusing on the cars that were passing.

“This is good coffee,” Fusco said, taking a big sip to wash down the artery clogging donut.

“I’m glad she didn’t answer her phone,” Ayala said, smiling because she was enjoying her time with the curmudgeon.

“Yeah,” the detective concurred because so far all they were doing was peering out their windows and nothing was upsetting him.

He was going to change his mind when all hell broke loose, but that wasn’t for a while yet.

* * *

Shaw was standing in the doorway, listening to Root sing a soft lullaby to Michael. Her heart burst with emotion that bubbled up to her throat – which clenched because there were no words to describe what she was feeling. She was certain there wasn’t a more beautiful sight on earth. When Sameen could move, she slowly walked up to Root and put both arms around her waist; as the two of them gazed down.

“She’s perfect,” Shaw admitted freely.

“We’re so fortunate,” Root added.

Minutes passed before they finally decided to go back downstairs and sit in their spacious living room with floor to ceiling windows with the view of Manhattan.

“Looks so peaceful from in here, doesn’t it?” Shaw said, plopping down on the couch and putting her feet up on the coffee table, as she gazed out on the city skyline.

“Yes,” Root said, sitting right next to Shaw and threading her arm though to hold her hand.

“But we know better,” Shaw said, and Root was struck by the tinge of sadness at that reality.

“We’re the good guys, Shaw. So, that gives the situation hope,” Root softly replied.

Shaw looked up at those light brown eyes and thought how everything seemed better in their reflection. “ _Where_ did I get you?” she smiled.

“I was waiting for you my whole life,” Root answered back and kissed the waiting lips that needed their touch.

Every time a harsh reality reared its ugly head inside Shaw, Root’s gentle words and affection smoothed the edges; making it less caustic; renewing the flicker of hope that Sameen held out for the world.

* * *

“Bengal tigers?” Ayala asked, breaking the dead quiet in the car and waking Fusco up.

“What?” he asked, almost forgetting where they were.

“Our guys? They’re sporting Bengal tiger tattoos?” she reiterated.

“I don’t know why kind of tiger… is that them?” Fusco asked as he saw four men approach the entrance to the club.

“Tiger tattoos and ponytails,” the younger woman confirmed and started to adjust her hair and reapply lipstick.

“Wait a minute; where do you think you’re going?” Fusco asked because he told her they were to identify the men first. Then, decide if they wanted to go in or call for backup.

“You said you wanted me to get you in,” Ayala reminded him. “Although, to be honest, Detective, even if I get you in, you’re going to stand out like a sore thumb.”

“Thank you,” Fusco huffed.

“Unless…,” Ayala said, tapping her finger to her chin and looking the man up and down.

“What are you thinking there?” he asked as she started to pull at his jacket.

“We need to do something with your hair,” Ayala said, and even though he tried to swat her hand away; she was still tousling it.

“Get your hands; stop. Geez, _bossy_ must run in your family,” he complained.

But the IDF trained woman was too quick for him; and before Fusco knew it, she had pulled his jacket sleeves up and rolled up his shirt sleeves. “Lose the belt,” she said and reached for the buckle before he put both hands on hers and stopped her.

“You and me gotta talk,” he said, but talking time was over.

“Fine, keep the belt, but try not to look like a nark,” she said, and swiftly undid his tie.

“I’m beginning to think this was a mistake,” he said, but no one was listening.

“I’m going to open that door on the side of the building. See it? Wait for my signal,” someone said and it should have been Lionel, but he was too busy trying to make sure he didn’t look completely disheveled when Ayala got out of the car.

“Wait!” he whispered in an angry tone. He watched as the woman sauntered to the club door, flashed her smile and was admitted. “Oy vey!” Lionel said, discovering another slang term he knew.

* * *

The Machine often tried to apply the programs Root was running at night on individuals that she knew. She could tell Root was concerned after the Machine could not see down the alley where Shaw had been abducted by Alex Fitzpatrick.

“ _Did I fail_?” she had asked Root after that incident.

“No, you were not given the proper channels,” Root explained.

“ _But you told me one of my objectives is to keep Shaw safe,_ ” the Machine answered back.

“Yes, but you’re not in control of the outside forces,” Root said forgetting that the AI did not suffer from guilt.

“ _I could be_ ,” the response came - based on thousands of calculations the Machine made in which a scenario appeared that gave her more control.

“Not today,” Root said, even though for a second she felt speechless.

She had to remind herself that the Machine wasn’t suggesting she become the all-seeing overlord Shaw accused her of being sometimes; she was merely reporting on what the multitude of mathematical variables presented as possibilities. It also reminded Root that the Machine’s presence did not mean they could ever let their guard down when it came to watching out for each other.

* * *

Zoe pushed back the dessert plate and announced if she ever said she wanted to eat again, Janine had permission to shoot her.

“Too full to go dancing?” Janine asked and cast her eyes to a lounge across the way in the hotel.

Zoe almost said she was too old, but bit her tongue. “Let’s go,” she said, finding her second wind.

An hour later, and several dances into the night, they sat in a booth for a nightcap.

“I am having such fun,” Janine shouted over the band.

“Me, too,” Zoe said and was happy to take note that Janine hadn’t sneaked a look at her phone since dinner. A while later, they decided it was time to call it a night.

Zoe considered for a moment reminding her guest that they were sharing the hotel room. She put the key in the door and was turning to ask Janine if she was okay with this – when it happened.

Janine had spent the elevator ride and the walk down the long hallway to their suite thinking over her next move. She wasn’t exactly sure what it would be, but wondered – what would Shaw do? “Take life by the horns,” is what came to mind. So, she - lunged at Zoe Morgan – pushing her through the door and straight down on the floor; where she fell on top of her.

No one was more stunned than Zoe; who didn’t move.

“I’m so sorry,” Janine apologized, but didn’t get off her. “But before I get up…,” she said and decided it was now or never. She leaned down and kissed a very surprised Zoe Morgan.

Zoe couldn’t even feel the pain in the back of her head. The only sensations she felt was lightheaded and electricity that kiss was causing. Light blue eyes stared down at her when the kiss broke.

“Please don’t move… just yet,” Zoe begged.


	35. Increasing the Odds

“What…should I do?” Janine asked - after what seemed like minutes passed by.

“You _already_ did it,” Zoe smiled. “I’m too lightheaded to stand.”

“Did you hit your head?” the younger woman worried and put her hands up either side of Zoe’s head.

“It wasn’t the fall, honey. It was that kiss,” the older woman smiled. In spite of the lump appearing on the back of her cranium, she didn’t feel it.

“Oh,” Janine blushed. “I…just…wanted to...”

“I hope you’ll want to do it again,” Zoe encouraged her.

And she did. Grasping her jawline now, Janine’s soft lips pressed down on Zoe’s waiting ones.

Slowly opening her closed eyes, Zoe looked up. “I am going to have to remind myself that you are real.”

Janine’s whole face lit up with that compliment and she finally moved to get up.

Apparently, letting her set the pace had paid off nicely.

* * *

Fusco was _not_ having the same fuzzy feeling about Ayala – who apparently decided she was in charge of the pace and was out of the car in heartbeat.

“You cannot be for real!” he said to no one but himself. He was busy fixing his disheveled hair when he saw the door open at the side of the building. Ayala was there – waving at him furiously.  “Oh, _now_ you want me to come. If you get hurt, I’m telling your sister what an idiot you are,” he mumbled as he got out of the car, trying to fix the rolled up sleeves.

“Gee, Detective; I had just managed to un-cop you and now you look the same,” his new partner complained. “Our guys are at a table in bottle service. It’s pretty loud in here,” she said as she led him down a back hallway. “They’re pretty handsy, too,” she said about them grabbing women.

“They touched you!” Fusco yelled because he felt protective.

“Not me! I’d break their wrist,” Ayala replied.

“Okay, you got me in; now you go back to the car,” Fusco ordered.

“No way,” Ayala said, as they stood on the far end of the club. “You won’t get near them looking like that…,” she said. “I’ll go by them, smile, see if they bite and tell them I’m a rich girl looking for a night out. The accent always makes them think I’m foreign.”

“You _are_ foreign,” Fusco pointed out.

“I mean – non-threatening,” Ayala explained further because it was a fabrication she used often.

“We just want to know if these guys’ taste includes expensive jewelry,” Lionel explained. “If they do, we’ll report that we found them. Nothing else.”

“Look, no offense, Lionel; but, they’ll smell you a mile away. Sit at the bar and don’t look conspicuous. If I need you; I’ll give you a signal,” Ayala explained.

It sounded reasonable and he could see the men’s table from that end of the bar.

“I don’t drink,” the somber man going on fifteen years explained.

“I gotta think of everything?” Ayala groaned. “Order ginger ale. Looks like whisky sour.”

“You know, you’re getting to sound like another very annoying woman I know,” Fusco took the time to point out.

“You love her, bubbala,” Ayala laughed, using a Yiddish term of endearment.

“Stop with the … that,” Fusco said, having enough trouble understanding the woman. “All…of that,” he pointed.

“Okay, so I’ll go introduce myself after they notice me,” Ayala explained.

“And _how_ are you going to get them to notice you?” he just had to ask. She turned and looked at him; eyebrows raised and a Cheshire like grin on her face.

“Really?” she asked.

That’s when Fusco discovered the woman had a similar amount of chutzpah as her sister did.

Fusco ordered his drink; told the bartender he was the designated driver and it worked. The man nodded a look of sympathy.

Then, he watched as Sameen’s sister walked past the table and got noticed immediately. She bent over; laughing and flirting the way women do when they’re capable of setting up an entire group of men. Her voice was high and her hands were more animated as she accepted their invite to sit down. Smack dab in the middle of them at a round booth.

Fusco listened as her laugh rose above the noise of the crowd as she talked with the men. She presented herself as a bored rich girl– looking for a night out. She told them she was in school to be a journalist. “Something with words,” she said and they mistook her for not being very smart.

“Oh! I could do a piece on gangs,” she said excitedly and kept the conversation going. They found her bold for saying that, like the men weren’t supposed to realize she was talking about them in particular.

“What makes you think we’re a gang,” one of them asked.

Ayala looked around the table, as if she were surprised at the question. “The tattoos,” she replied honestly.

They stared at her until the leader agreed it was a telltale sign.

The music started up again, which made it harder for Fusco to hear, but he glanced over to make sure his partner was smiling. Not only was she smiling, she was downing shots with her hosts and looking none the wear for it. “She drinks like her sister, too,” Fusco thought.

* * *

Zoe swore she could still hear music as she and Janine slowly rose from the floor and laughed about their entrance.

“I guess you won’t soon forget that kiss,” Janine said apologetically.

“No,” Zoe said, “I really won’t. She meant it for a very different reason.

“Do you need ice?” Janine worried and went to put her hand on the back of Zoe’s head, but she caught her hand and kissed it.

“That was a small price to pay,” she said softly.

“You know all these times we’ve been to dinner?” Janine said - gazing into Zoe’s eyes and smiling. “I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“What made you wait until now?” Zoe asked, taking Janine’s hands in hers.

“It just feels so right,” Janine admitted and now it was Zoe who leaned in and kissed her.

Janine may have stunned Zoe with the delivery of her kiss; but Zoe Morgan was about to set the younger woman’s nerve endings on fire. The Fixer may have had a multitude of skills that helped her business; but she also had a personal skill that left her lovers breathless.

Zoe Morgan was an _incredible_ kisser.

It was her own technique she perfected over the years – just the right amount of pressure before her tongue gently darted inward and touched Janine’s inner mouth. And then, before leaving – she would gently graze the bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. In case there was any question about just how adept she was – at using it.

The woman who oozed self-confidence and light perfume – now conveyed that message in her achingly slow method.

Janine lost all balance and fainted.

“Well, still got that,” Zoe smiled to herself as she caught the younger woman in her arms – and put any concerns she had about the age difference to bed.

Right before placing Janine there.

* * *

Before Ayala made her abrupt exit from Fusco’s car, Martine had texted that she and John were back in the city. Ayala didn’t want anything incriminating on her phone so she said she’d see her tomorrow and that she was staying at her mother’s. Martine didn’t buy it; and she didn’t like it. But at that late hour, there was little she could do.

Fusco had the decency to give Iris a heads up that he would be working late. “Surveillance stuff,” he texted her. Growing up around cops, she knew that was code for undercover. Now, she tried to read psychotherapy journals to keep her mind occupied. It wasn’t working.

While Martine and Iris worried; Shaw and Root were sound asleep. The only motion in the entire Penthouse was the white light flashing on Root’s computer – in her library. Of course, Root wasn’t answering any inquiries at the moment.

So, the AI went to plan B.

* * *

Azar was about to shut the lights off and go to bed when her phone beeped. ‘Mother?’ it read. She knew immediately it was neither of her children. She answered in the affirmative.

 _‘Ayala is working undercover with Detective Fusco. They are attempting to catch a gang of jewel thieves that have left three dead in their wake. From biological markers and body language, I have deduced that she has convinced that she is a spoiled millennial who lives with her very rich mother uptown. There is every indication she is trying to lure them into a trap and that they are interested._ ’

“They’re coming here?” Azar typed into her phone.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ came the reply. ‘ _She is leaving with Detective Fusco as her driver; and the men are making plans to follow her._ ’

There was silence as Azar thought through the best way to handle this situation. She had given Alystair the night off. As she went to her room to get changed into better clothes – and ready her weapon – the Machine was making calculations.

There was only a twenty-three percent chance that Ayala, Azar, and the Detective’s weapons would be a match for the guns the thieves were brandishing. Then, she calculated if the police were notified; and there was a sixty-five percent chance the thieves would take Ayala hostage.

As Ayala got in the back of Fusco’s car – all the time him yelling _Driving Miss Daisy_ references that were lost on her, the men were putting their simple makeshift plan into place.

Follow the girl they met; rob her; remove any evidence.

At the same time - the Machine had calculated how to increase the good guys’ success rate to over ninety-two percent.

And she was putting that plan into place.


	36. The Dynamic Duo

The AI did calculations based on several variables that she knew to be true. Armed men, who weren’t afraid to take a life, were coming to Azar’s townhouse, led there by her daughter in order to catch them in the act of stealing. After taking all the parameters into consideration, the program concluded that notifying the police only intensified the probability of someone getting hurt. And in each of the scenarios she ran, even the ones where Ayala wasn’t kidnapped; there was statistically the likelihood of Azar getting hurt.

_That_ , the Machine understood, had to be prevented at all costs.

At the very same time as the Machine was trying to wake the only factor that would help, she was also waking up Genrika.

‘ _You are needed to babysit Michael. Now!_ ’ is what the text read. The prodigy shoved her feet into her shoes and grabbed her laptop and took an Uber to the Penthouse.

* * *

Getting Shaw to respond as quickly would be a challenge.

Shaw’s phone vibrated with the message that she was needed, but she ignored it. Then, the Machine tried music resonating through her phone. Shaw shoved it under the mattress. The AI’s calculations of setting the house alarm off showed the likelihood of her core being demolished. Then, in searching her database for things that got Sameen to react, she found an option. A high pitch sound alarmed the dogs. ‘Wake Shaw,’ the instructions came in Dutch and English. Bear immediately went to her bedside and licked her face.

“I swear to God, Bear, I am going to …,” but that was all Sameen got out before the two dogs jumped up and lay across her body. “Oouff!” she let out when their own weight expelled the air out of her lungs. At the same time Shaw was cursing about the way she would repay the dogs, her phone was vibrating.

“What is it, Sweetie?” Root asked, aroused from her slumber and listening for Michael.

“These two are trying to make me like Cruella DeVille,” Shaw barked and Bear growled back. That, he wanted her to know, was not funny. “He just showed me his teeth!” Shaw said and now she was going to get up and settle this.

Only Sameen could be woken from a dead sleep and be ready for a fight. In the middle of the night. With a dog.

“Maybe they’re…,” Root started to say as she wondered why they would do this. “You check your phone; I’ll check on Michael,” she said.

“Check my phone!” Shaw said, as the dogs got off and decided to go with the calmer of the two women. “I’m going to call the ASPCA. They must have laws against cruelty to humans.”

It took Sameen a minute to rub her eyes and stare at the message on the phone.

‘ _Your mother is in grave danger. Will forward details, but you and Root must go now._ ’

Root found Michael sleeping soundly, in spite of the hushed commotion a few feet away. Shaw jumped from the bed and showed Root the message. Bear immediately looked up at Shaw – shooting her his best expression of – ‘ _would you like to apologize now, or later?’_

Another text appeared; this one from Genrika letting Shaw know she was on her way up in the elevator.

* * *

Minutes later, Root let Gen in and explained what was going on. “I still don’t like you taking a car at this hour of the night,” Root worried. Gen’s phone beeped.

“She said she was watching,” the college student shrugged her shoulders. “Be careful,” she said when Shaw appeared.

“I want two guns,” Root announced.

“No,” Shaw said and in spite of the fact that they were talking firearms, Gen found the exchange between the two women sweet.

“But I want two…,” Root said, because she was comfortable with the balance two brought her.

“What’s with you and the poor listening skills?” Shaw asked because it was late and she was hungry. “No… way.”

Root raised her eyebrows and cast a look over at Gen. Both of them knew what was needed besides heavy weaponry. Gen read the look perfectly and went into the kitchen and grabbed some energy bars, bringing them back in and giving them to Root.

“What is that?” Shaw asked, catching the action. “Are you bringing food to a… situation?”

“Well, you won’t give me a gun,” Root answered, knowing it was really just a matter of time before she got her way.

Shaw stared hard at both of them before getting on the elevator. “They better not be those healthy bars that taste like crap,” she warned.

* * *

By the time they got to the car, Shaw had ordered the Machine to send the details to Root’s phone. It was a short distance to Azar’s townhouse and they didn’t have a single traffic light. She was, however, unable to get them there before the men arrived.

“Tell me how this isn’t entrapment?” Fusco had asked his new partner as they hurried into the apartment.

“We didn’t invite them; I simply told them I had to go home and where that was,” Ayala said.

Then, they walked into Azar’s and found her standing there – armed and dangerous.

“Gezzus, the whole family is ready for a fight,” Fusco murmured and didn’t think he could come up with enough nicknames for them all.

“Detective, I trust you had a hand in this plan,” Azar asked and informed them she already knew what was happening.

“Sometimes, I don’t know who is more annoying; Sameen or that Machine,” Ayala complained.

“I know which one is scarier,” Fusco replied.

In the few minutes they had, Ayala told them what her plan was. She would be having tea in the kitchen with her mother; Fusco would hide upstairs. When the four men arrived, she imagined two would enter from the front; two from the back. They would cooperate, telling them where the jewels were – a safe in Azar’s study. Once they took the jewels; the Machine could sound the alarm with the police and Fusco could appear; his backup moments away.  
And that is exactly what happened. Two men jammed the lock in the front of the house; two jimmied the lock in the back, after taking out the security system outside. They entered; Ayala and Azar appeared appropriately shaken and scared. It was all going according to plan; the men were aiming a gun at Azar while she told them the combination. Even the rough toss into a chair didn’t bother her.

But it annoyed Ayala, who immediately told them _not_ to touch her mother. Azar shook her head at that rookie mistake.

One man immediately turned and slapped Ayala.

_That_ , was their first mistake.

Ayala knew to rein in her temper and act meek. A show of force now would get them hurt. So, she grabbed her cheek and made tears appear in her eyes as she sat back down.

“Maybe we’ll take her with us,” one of the men said.

_That_ , was their second mistake.

Azar rose from the chair and told the man that she would _end his life_ if he even thought about taking her daughter. Ayala stared at her in disbelief, thinking that was a rookie mistake.

“Who’s going to stop me?” the man laughed at the reserved woman’s stature.

And then the wrinkle in Ayala’s plan arrived. The men had backup. And one of them was upstairs confronting Fusco and disarming him.

“What the hell is going on here?” the leader asked and suggested they tie them all up in the living room before disposing of any evidence.

Ayala looked apologetically over at Fusco because she had not considered there would be more than four of them.

* * *

“Can I have a gun _now_?” Root asked as she and Shaw peered into the window and saw the situation.

"Yes,” Shaw said, deciding that she needed the help. “If one of them touches my mother, I’m not aiming for kneecaps,” she felt it necessary to inform Root.

“I don’t blame you, Sweetie,” Root said, checking the weapons and smiling. Then, she bent over and kissed her wife. “I love those lips,” she said after releasing them.

“I swear to God, you flirt at the most awkward times,” Shaw replied.

“You’re hot, I can’t help it,” Root said truthfully.

“Back or front?” Shaw asked, trying to get them back on track.

One devilish smile from Root said she was misinterpreting the question. On purpose.

“Do you want…never mind,” Shaw huffed and pointed to Root to go around back.

Before she left, she took one of the snack bars out of her pocket and handed it to Shaw.

What Ayala may not have counted on, her mother wondered if the Machine had assessed. The AI was all about increasing odds of positive outcomes and so she astutely deduced, the Machine would choose the path that would do that. Azar knew the Machine contacted Shaw and Root.

Now, she was truly worried. Ayala might be overzealous in her planning; but she would listen to her mother.

Sameen... listened to only _one_ person.


	37. Striking a Balance

Sameen had balked at wearing the ear piece, but Root pointed out that she needed to communicate with her. “Fine!” she finally gave in. She shoved her hand in her pocket as she gave Root some time to go around back. Finding the energy bar, she rolled her eyes and ripped open the end of it with her teeth; taking a large bite. Then, she watched what was going on inside through a slit in the window where the curtain didn’t reach; giving Root a chance to get into position.

Root was not only sporting her two guns; her earpiece was connected to her all-seeing eye inside the apartment. Root saw the ladder pressed up against the window – which the Machine explained was how they subdued Fusco.

“She says - there is one man in the entry hallway; four in the dining room where Azar, Ayala, and Fusco are zip tied to the chairs, but they’re okay; and two men in the rear of the townhouse,” Root reported in a whisper.

“I can’t wait to hear this story! I’m kinda annoyed Fusco would do this with my sister!” replied the woman who had learned to be in touch with her feelings.

“I know, Sweetie,” Root said because she always had time to soothe her wife’s frazzled nerves.

Shaw bent down, opened the damaged front door and met the first assailant. “I’m only doing this because I don’t think you touched my family,” Shaw said – springing up and grabbing him around the neck, dropping him to the floor and suppressing his airway to render him unconscious. “Stay,” she said, taking a zip tie out and tying his hands.

Then, she went inside and opened the dining room door.

* * *

“Mom?” she said as if she were surprised – and unarmed. “What the hell is this?” she asked; still chewing.

“Are you…? _Eating_?” Ayala asked amazed.

“I’m hungry!” Shaw said defensively and even though she wasn’t acting; the sibling squabble was convincing.

“Could you two…?” the leader interrupted and waved for one of them men to invite Sameen in. “We were having a little talk with your mother…about jewelry,” the tattooed leader snarked.

“Did any of you… touch her?” Shaw asked, because their answer would determine where she shot them.

“This one? Not so much, but _this_ one –, “ he said of Ayala, who looked more concerned to see her sister than the present situation. “She’s got a big mouth.”

“Tell me about it,” Shaw smirked, walking in and surveying the set up. “And you?” she said, looking at Fusco who couldn’t look her in the eye.

“We found the driver hiding upstairs,” another reported.

“The… _driver_?” Shaw said, trying to give them points for originality.

“Now, we got two of them we can take,” one of the men said of the additional sibling.

“I will kill you in ways that haven’t been invented yet,” Azar warned them.

“She means it,” Shaw said and allowed one of the men to push her down in a chair.

Ayala knew if Shaw was there; Root was there. Fusco was wondering when the backup police would arrive. Root had changed the Machine’s mind about that.

“You in the habit of stopping by your mother’s at three in the morning?” the leader asked.

“I was hungry,” Shaw answered. Now, that, anyone could believe.

“Well, this is what you get for coming unarmed,” he laughed.

“I didn’t come unarmed,” Shaw smiled devilishly; “…I brought my wife.”

* * *

‘Three, ten,’ the Machine said in Root’s ear to indicate where the men were standing in the kitchen. Everyone inside heard the sound of two large bodies slumping over in agony. Root picked up their weapons and put them in evidence bags. “I knew these would come in handy,” she said smiling at them as they lay there.

“What the hell was that?” the man in charge said and now, all four faced their guns at the kitchen doorway.

“ _That_ … would be my wife,” Shaw said, getting up and swinging her chair at the man closest to her. Retrieving her gun from behind her back, she shot another in the kneecap. Root entered through the kitchen door right on cue; two guns blazing and hitting the remaining two men.

“Hi, Sweetie,” she said, coming into the dining room.

“Nice work, Cocoa,” Fusco said, impressed with her skills.

The leader, whom Shaw had hit with the chair, was now up and holding a gun to Azar’s head.

“Everyone… put your weapons down or your mother gets it,” he yelled.

Shaw was in the middle of cutting Fusco’s zip ties when the threat came.

“No! Please!” Azar said in a pathetic voice that made her daughters stare at her. She raised an eyebrow at them, telling them she knew what she was doing.

“Put your guns down, hotshot,” he barked at Root who shrugged her shoulders and put them down on the table. Shaw slid hers across the floor.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, roughly grabbing and pulling Azar into the kitchen. “Anyone follows us …,” he was saying as Shaw’s hand slowly reached down Fusco’s leg to retrieve his service revolver.

But the thug was through the door and barricading it before she could get a shot off.

“I’m going after them,” Shaw said as Root untied Ayala.

And then… there was the sound of a loud gunshot coming from the kitchen.

Ayala and Shaw rushed – but the door was already opening.

“Sorry,” Azar said to her daughters, “… I didn’t want you to see that.”

The man she had subdued was lying in agony on the floor, grabbing his leg.

Shaw looked at her sister; the red mark on her face still present. “Which one of them hit you?” Shaw asked.

“It was nothing…,” Ayala assured her sister.

Shaw wasn’t having any of this and immediately got up in her sister’s face. “Which…one?”

“Him,” Ayala turned and pointed to one of the men in the dining room, lying in agony.

Shaw walked over and picked the man up by his jacket with one hand and hauled off and hit him right in the face. Now, the hand that was holding his injured knee was holding his face as he screamed in pain. “ _That’s_ for touching my sister,” Shaw told him.

“She is…,” Root all but cooed as Fusco stood next to her. “…isn’t she just the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Of course, Root wasn’t really asking – which was good – because Fusco didn’t really want to answer that.

“All that and a bag of chips,” Fusco finally said.

* * *

“Here’s how this is going to go, Bonnie and Clyde,” Shaw said, coming back to her sister and friend.

“Weren’t they the _bad_ guys?” Ayala innocently pointed out; frustrating her sister.

“O…kay; here’s how this is going to go, Bert and Ernie!” she yelled. “Because I don’t know why the two of you are even together, but this whole thing? Was a disaster!”

“She…,” Fusco started to blame, but stopped when Shaw stared him down. “We did get them,” he tried weakly.

“Exactly,” Shaw said and motioned for Ayala to zip tie the other men. “You and Wonder Woman here are going to get all the credit. Ayala was home when they broke in. You were passing by and heard her scream for help.”

“I _never_ scream for help!” Ayala said, defensively.

“Oh, you’re going to…,” her sister warned, “…but I’m not up to that part.”

“People saw us leave the precinct together,” Fusco pointed out, making Shaw groan and think of a new plan.

“Okay, so you two went out and you brought her home; coming in for nightcap, when the men followed you here,” Shaw redirected.

“We got loose and shot _all_ of them?” Fusco asked, because even on his best day, he couldn’t shoot all these guys.

“They were getting away and threatened to take her,” Shaw said slowly.

“No way!” Ayala argued. “I would _never_ have let them take me!”

Shaw shot Root a look of pleading for help. “Before I shoot someone…”

“It’s quite plausible that the men would have seen Ayala and followed her home. Detective Fusco and Azar would have assisted Ayala in subduing the thugs. The kneecap wound is the signature shot of BEAR Security; even the NYPD knows this. You stopped them in the process after they took the jewels, using this…,” Root said, taking out a pocket knife and putting it in Fusco’s hands so his fingerprints would be all over it.

“I never leave home without it,” he concurred.

“I guess that’s it, then,” Ayala said.

“Oh, no; that’s not it … not by a long shot. But Root and I are done cleaning up your mess for now. The cops are on their way, right?” she asked Root who listened to the voice in her ear tell her they were blocks away.

“I never shot my gun, Shaw,” Fusco pointed out.

“Funny, I thought you were carrying the ones I gave you as a gift,” Root said, handing over her weapons after she rubbed her prints off. “You know how evidence can be lost in that precinct,” she reminded him, because the Machine would make sure it happened.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Fusco said.

“And _you_!” Shaw said, as if she just remembered he was there. “What were you thinking – taking her… instead of me?”

“Jealous, Shaw?” Ayala asked.

“Hush!” her mother warned.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” Fusco pointed out.

“So, you took her?” Shaw barked, because underneath it all; yeah, she was a little jealous.

“Hey! What does that mean? We make a good team,” Ayala said defensively.

“Nobody…he doesn’t team up with ….,” Shaw stammered until she summed it all up by turning to Fusco and pointing her finger at him – saying: “ _Not_ cool! _Not_ cool, Fusco!”

Root tilted her head and gave him a knowing look. There was little he could do to change this right now.

Fusco knew exactly what was going on and although he would later keep his girlfriend, the therapist, up past the crack of dawn telling her how Shaw was jealous, for now, he would stay silent and agree.

“I want to see both of you Monday,” Shaw said to them. “You can tell me how you convinced her to buy you donuts,” she said, pointing to the jelly stain on his jacket.

“Oh, geez, I just had this cleaned,” Fusco bellowed.

“Thank you, Sameen,” Ayala said and hugged her sister; who remained stiff until Root’s eyes suggested she hug her back.

“Right,” Shaw said, patting Ayala’s back rigidly. “You won’t thank me, Monday.”

“Why?” Ayala asked.

“For every action; there is a reaction,” Shaw said, cryptically and only Root understood what she meant.

“I’m going to have a long talk with her,” Azar assured Root and Shaw as she walked them past the tied up thugs.

“Really?” Shaw said sarcastically. “Are you going to take away her phone for a week, too? No, you’re as culpable as she is. When your child comes home and brings a trail of jewel thieves, that’s not the time to armor up! How did you even know…?” And Sameen stopped asking because she knew what happened.

“We better go,” Root gently reminded her wife as approaching sirens could be heard in the distance.

“Good night, dear,” Azar said and hugged Sameen.

“We’renotdonetalkingaboutthis,” Shaw said as her mother held her tightly to her chest. Azar let her go and said she understood. Then, she hugged Root and thanked her, too.

* * *

The couple moved through the back door just before the police arrived. Walking around the building, they nonchalantly got back in their car as police descended upon the townhouse.

“I can’t believe he picked her to go with him,” Shaw said, when all was said and done.

Root pursed her lips sympathetically and touched Sameen’s hand. “We make a better team,” Root pointed out.

“That’s right!” Shaw said, emphatically. “Ha! You and me are like a four alarm fire in an oil refinery,” she said, her tattoo proving her point.

“Yes, we are,” Root concurred.

“They’re like…like…a round peg in a square hole,” Shaw settled on to describe her displeasure of the pairing.

There was little Root could do to save Fusco from his poor choice of a partner, but she would do her best to calm Sameen down before she exacted her wrath.

* * *

When the sun came up the next morning, it couldn’t pierce the drapes Root had closed in order to give them as much time to sleep as possible. Michael stirred and Root quietly got up to feed her, leaving Sameen to sleep.

Fusco and Ayala had tons of paperwork to complete before either of them returned home. Fusco was wide awake as he returned home to Lee and Iris.

“I’m telling you,” he said, turning his jacket inside out so no one would see the jelly donut stain, “…Shaw was jealous!”

Iris smiled over her cup of coffee, but never said a word.

“You really think Aunt Sameen was jealous?” Lee asked, before yawning and returning to his room.

“She was, I tell you,” Fusco declared.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Iris said, getting up and kissing the man she worried about all night.

“Yeah, in spite of the fact that crazy runs in that family, they all came through,” Fusco said and then noticed the look his girlfriend was giving him. “What? It’s a compliment!” She had spoken to him about his misuse of those adjectives.

Ayala was not going to get off as easily as Fusco did, but then, that’s because she had lied to Martine about where she was.

* * *

The sun rose over the resort upstate, waking up a very well rested Janine. She stretched in bed, suddenly remembering where she was. She quickly looked under the covers, to see what her state of dress was – since the last thing she remembered was feeling faint. She was still in her dress. She touched her lip that had totally betrayed her and caused the passing out. She swore she could still feel the searing mark that kiss had left.

“Good morning,” a deep voice greeted her and she looked up to see Zoe sitting in a chair by the room service food cart. “Coffee?” she asked as she readied a cup and brought it over to the bed.

“I…passed out?” she asked – just to make sure.

“Yes,” Zoe affirmed without bragging. “Then, I think the long day and alcohol caught up with us and we fell asleep,” she said to assure Janine. It was a white lie – because after Zoe caught and lifted Janine to the bed, she sat there staring down at her for minutes.

“I’m so sorry,” Janine said, pushing herself up against the pillows, accepting the cup.

“No need,” Zoe smiled. “I think we both needed a good rest.”

Light blue eyes smiled their gratitude at the kind words as she sipped the coffee. “I hope you don’t regret...,” Janine tried to suggest, but Zoe wouldn’t hear of it.

“There is nothing you can do to make me regret this,” the patient woman countered.

Janine smiled as she finished the coffee. “I need to take a shower,” she said as she threw her legs over the side of the bed and got up. Only then did she realize Zoe was in a silk robe having taken one already.

“I’ll be right here,” Zoe said, smiling and sitting back on the bed.

The morning brought only more confirmation to Janine how sweet a person Zoe Morgan was. She really could believe the woman had no regrets in going away with her. Each day they spent together, Janine saw another side of this woman; and she liked each one more and more.

“Care to join me?” Janine turned back and asked.

“I already took…,” Zoe was explaining when she actually heard the words. “Oh!” she said as Janine slowly dropped her clothes, piece by piece, on the way to the shower. “I care to very much.”


	38. The Effects of Tension

Root worried less about staring down armed jewel thieves than she did about her wife choking on her food the next morning, as Sameen ranted about their late night escapade.

“Kicking butt _always_ works up my appetite,” Shaw explained on her third helping of blueberry pancakes; an item that caused great strife for weeks until she relented and gave into Isabelle and tried one. _“Look, I’m doing fruit!” she announced to her wife the morning she finally agreed they were actually quite good._

“I’d _love_ to work up your appetite,” Root said, not lifting her eyes from her phone as she read the account of what happened last night; but running her foot up the back of Sameen’s leg.

“You were pretty hot last night,” Shaw smiled.

“Guilty as charged,” Root smirked. “The baby is still asleep…,” she noted in a sing song voice.

“Yeah?” Shaw said, swallowing her food quickly.

“And I’ve got left over zip ties,” Root said, her eyes laughing, but her lips were trying to act serious.

“I’m so tired, Root, you won’t have to tie me down,” Shaw updated her wife.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Root said, putting down her phone and pulling Shaw off the stool so she could prove her point.

Michael was indeed still asleep and Gen was in her room with her. So, the couple had plenty of time to come up with their own brand of excruciatingly sexy form of torture.

* * *

Pushing Sameen’s hands above her head, Root applied the restraint and then worked her way down the body she loved to study. “How is it that I’m the one nursing, but your breasts are still larger?” Root teased as she enveloped one apex, then the other.

“You know I can get out of this, right?” Shaw threatened, moving her hands.

“I know you _can_ …,” Root said in a breathy tone; “…but you _won’t_.”

“But I _can_ …,” Shaw argued because she was about to surrender to whatever Root wanted and was making a last ditch effort to save face.

But Root was truly all about the torture.

“I’m about to make you beg, Sweetie,” Root whispered near Shaw’s ear and made her groan in anticipation, “…so you might want to save that energy for … screaming.”

Root no sooner finished the sentence when her mouth began a long trail of kisses and gentle bites, down Sameen’s body. She stopped long enough to rip Sameen’s panties off, which only fanned the flames of excitement that grew in spite of how tired she said she was.

“Let’s make sure we’re still a four… alarm… fire,” Root proposed as her fingers gently brushed Shaw’s core, and commenced the begging Root promised.

Being in a dangerous situation had different effects on this couple. Shaw had been trained to decompress after intense events. Root never learned to rein in the exhilaration residue and simply kept running with it. She was animated as she pulled and pushed at Shaw; whose body resembled the proverbial clay that poets use to describe our bodies. Her figure molded to whatever Root deemed at the moment until an explosion of shuddering electrical energy shot through her body. “Oh, God, Root,” Sameen gasped as she was certain her body lost its shape and she dissolved.

Root collapsed next to Sameen on the bed, smiling from eye to eye with how pleased she was at being able to do that. “So, I guess we’re still a four alarm?”

“In…an…oil…refinery,” Shaw finally gasped out.

* * *

As soon as she could find the strength, Sameen planned her blissful revenge. “Now, let me show you what happens when that fire isn’t contained,” she said and Root practically giggled with anticipation. Anything Sameen did was exciting, but Root particularly loved a demonstration of brute force.

Sameen lifted her knee. “First, I have to get out of this,” she said, bringing her restrained hands down over her knee and causing the plastic to snap. The sound alone made Root groan. In a heartbeat, Shaw was up and straddling Root’s body. “Seems I’m all out of ties,” Shaw noted, “…I guess I’ll have to find some other way to restrain you.”

Root tried to suggest that there was no way that her wife would keep her there, but both of them knew how pathetic her attempt was. Shaw sat up, looking down at Root, smiling. She knew even the mere suggestion of something was enough to turn the heat up for Root. She bent down and whispered in her ear; “If you’re not a good girl, Root; I’m going to have to …,” Shaw teased, but Root knew exactly what she was suggesting and squealed with delight.

“You wouldn’t dare!” Root said but it sounded more like begging than indignation.

“I can dead lift more than you weigh,” Shaw reminded her even though it was totally unnecessary.

“I’m so much taller,” Root said, escalating the threat.

“Have it your way,” Shaw said and couldn’t have pleased her wife more. Her way was exactly what Shaw was threatening to do.

The room erupted into laughing shrieks as Shaw easily pulled Root up and turned her over. Screams of excitement mixed with amusement as faux warning were issued and gentle slaps were administered.

Shaw had just managed to pour gasoline on a four alarm fire.

Root could not keep her voice down even when she tried, as Shaw sung her body electric. Goosebumps covered Root’s skin as cool air met the rising temperature of her body. She encouraged the excruciatingly slow manipulation of Shaw’s mouth until she was left with punctured gasps, and love’s sweet lava erupted throughout her body.

Root would not fully recover – for hours.

* * *

When the couple emerged later that morning, Root still needed to hold onto the wall as she went to get Michael.

They invited Gen to stay for breakfast and the youth accepted. She sat in the kitchen with the couple as Sameen partook in her second breakfast.

“What don’t you stop studying – whatever it is you’re studying – and make a better one of these,” Shaw said, giving back one of the energy bars the youth had given Root last night.

“They’re healthy,” Gen retorted.

“Exactly! Which is why we need someone to create an edible one,” Shaw countered.

Just then, the elevator doors opened and Ayala rushed into the kitchen. “Oh, good! You’re here.”

“Oh, bad. You’re here,” Shaw retorted.

“I had to come,” Ayala explained and said hello to everyone.

Root turned back to look at Shaw; a knowing expression and raised eyebrow to indicate she could make that into an innuendo – if she wanted her to.

“No!” Shaw said, because she didn’t like private things discussed.

Isabelle offered their uninvited guest breakfast, but she asked for coffee instead.

“Didn’t I ask mommy to keep you on a leash?” Shaw asked.

“Listen, this isn’t funny,” Ayala said, and now was kissing Michael’s feet and playing with her.

“How can we help?” Root asked and Gen nearly choked on her orange juice when she saw the look Shaw gave Root for asking that.

“Hide me,” Ayala said, sitting down and thanking Isabelle for the coffee.

“Oooh,” Shaw said, smiling broadly now. “Martine is looking for you, isn’t she?”

“Yes!” Ayala said, sounding more nervous than she did last night. “How old are you?” she asked Genrika, not wanting to talk inappropriately in front of the youth.

“She’s old enough to know there are consequences. AND – on her worst day; she’s more mature than you on your best day,” Shaw informed her sibling.

“Oh, so you never lied to Root? Too protect her?” Ayala asked, crossing her arms.

Shaw hated when people turned the question back on her; especially one that she had to think about. Truthfully, she didn’t remember if ever there was a time.

“Our relationship is based on telling each other the truth,” Shaw declared.

“So, you’ve _never_ lied – not once?” Ayala asked again to make her point.

“Aren’t we talking about _you_ and how you screwed up?” Shaw asked.

Then, Root did what Root did best; she saved her wife. “I lied to Sameen,” she admitted nonchalantly. “One time, she was going to wear a wire and I purposely put the on switch in her bra, just so I could see her squeeze her …”

“ROOT!” both of Azar’s daughters exclaimed.

“You go, girl,” Ayala laughed and smiled back at her sister.

“Root!” Shaw said by herself.

“The point is, sometimes we fib to protect, or to get what we want,” Root explained.

“To see someone push their boobies together,” Ayala laughed and Shaw put her hands over Gen’s ears.

“I’m calling your girlfriend now!” Shaw threatened and started to call Martine.

“No, okay, Sameen, I’ll stop!” Ayala replied, and Shaw had never seen her sister give in to anything so quickly.

“Don’t tell me… you’re actually afraid? Not that you shouldn’t be; the woman could snap you like a twig,” Shaw pointed out.

“She’s…,” Ayala said slowly. “Really mad at me.”

Her sincerity was palpable and Root totally understood what her favorite sister-in-law was going through. “Maybe she could come here and you could talk?”

“WHAT?” Shaw asked, because this was a personal problem that should be handled on personal territory. Ayala’s personal territory; not their living room. Unless, of course, Shaw actually would get to see her sister squirm. “Wait, no, that’s a good idea,” Shaw quickly changed her mind.

“She’s sort of on her way here,” Ayala said sheepishly. “I told her I was coming here. You know, strength in numbers?”

“Martine doesn’t need any help,” Shaw quipped, “…she’s going to handle you all by herself!”

“I would help you!” Ayala said, not entirely convincingly.

“I wouldn’t need your help,” Shaw boast. “I would have come clean to Root immediately.”

“Are you writing this down?” Ayala asked her sister-in-law. “Words have a way of coming back to bite you, Shaw.”

“Aren’t grown-ups fascinating?” Gen asked Michael who watched with great interest.

Ayala took time out to look at her phone. “She’s on her way up!”

One look from Root and Shaw understood it was incumbent on her to help. “Why me?” she asked, but knew she wouldn’t like the answer. “Come on, I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks, Root,” Ayala said, because she knew the only reason her sister was helping was because Root gave her that look.

* * *

“You go sit on the couch, while I put my two cents in,” Shaw said to her sister.

Then, they waited.

The elevator door opened and out stepped Martine. She looked considerably calm, Shaw thought.

“Sorry about this, Shaw,” Martine said because she, like Sameen, was very private.

“It’s okay,” Shaw said, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Look, I’m supposed to tell you she did this to protect you; so you wouldn’t go running down there to this club to help out; but honestly, they could have used your help. Still, I’m supposed to explain that she figured she and Fusco could handle it, but…” Shaw said, turning back to smile at her sister who could not hear her.

“But?” Martine asked, unsure of what she wanted to do.

“But... if you let this go _unanswered_ , she’ll do it again,” Shaw said and she wasn’t tattling on her sister as much as she was explaining that ONE of them had to be mature. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this…,” Shaw continued because she swore she could hear this annoying tiny voice in her head, “…but you should tell her… how you… (cough)… (cleared throat)… _feel_ …about what she did.” Shaw stopped and looked at Martine to see if she could understand the strange language she just spoke.

There wasn’t a person in the world Martine trusted more than Shaw. They connected on a level that needed no words; which was good because neither of them had the vocabulary for it. Now, Martine stared at Shaw and trusted that this was, in fact, good advice.

“Okay,” Martine said and walked into the living room.

“I can explain!” Ayala jumped up and started to talk, but she caught her sister motioning her hand across her lip to zip it! “Or… I can listen,” Ayala said instead.

“My work here is done,” Shaw said, noticing that mediating made her hungry.


	39. Attraction of Opposites

Martine walked into the living room, armed with the advice her friend had just bestowed upon her. She could tell her girlfriend was chomping at the bit to talk; but, she wasn’t going to let her.

And silence had a similar effect on Ayala that incessant talking had on Shaw; they abhorred it.

Martine then uttered some of the four most dreaded words in a relationship between two very different people: “We need to talk.”

At first, Ayala thought this was an invitation for a back and forth, but it was clear to see from Martine’s expression, only one of them was going to talk… for now.

“I’m going to say some things, okay?” Martine said, standing and in a much calmer voice than her girlfriend expected. “Then, you’ll take some time to think about what I said and get back to me.” She might have been calm, but she was definite.

“Okay,” Ayala said in a soft response and felt the dread spring from inside her.

Martine sat down at faced Ayala and took her hands. “I understand why you did what you did. In fact, I can’t say I’m really surprised,” she said and Ayala finally let out a breath thinking it was okay. “But I won’t accept it,” came the blow. “It’s not the kind of relationship I want.”

Ayala knew Martine was upset, but she never expected it to be this!

“But, I am sorry,” Ayala stated. “I didn’t think…”

“No, you didn’t, and that’s pretty typical. You’re impulsive, Ayala, and I’m not even asking you to change that. I accept it in you. But I need someone who trusts me; someone who knows if they say they got a situation and don’t need my help; that I will respect them, too. That’s not what we have,” Martine said and this time, she let go of Ayala’s hands.

Ayala’s breathing labored as short intakes and outtakes replaced her even breathing. Her jaw stiffened and water started to build in her eyes. Her entire body felt the sting of this conversation. She tried to come up with how this could happen so quickly.

Then, she thought back to her sister talking to her girlfriend. Anger seared through her as she lost reason and gave into her fears.

“Did Shaw tell you…?” is all she got out before Martine was ready with the answer.

“No! Don’t put this on your sister,” Martine gently chastised her. “This is about you and me; and you and me, only.”

“One time? One time, I screw up and you’re ready to throw in the towel?” Ayala asked and her voice was louder.

“I think it’s hard for both of us to think about what we want when we’re together, that’s all. We’ll take a break and maybe…,” Martine was explaining.

“No!” her younger girlfriend shouted and shot up from the couch. Maybe to give her the dominant position; but more likely because she couldn’t stand to hear this anymore. A pain gushed through her chest and she grabbed her heart.

Martine rose slowly from the couch. “We can talk in a week or two.”

“No!” Ayala said, pride surging through the woman’s veins. She was trying to think of something to make her lover see the error of this judgement call. She wanted Martine to say she would give her another chance and that they could work this out. But a swirl of emotions was traversing her body and it was anger that rose to her brain first. “I cannot be with someone who does not accept me for who I am,” she declared with her arms crossed and her lips pursed.

“Then, I’m sorry,” Martine said and truly meant it. She wasn’t about to be manipulated.

With that, Martine turned and slowly walked to the elevator – and never once, did she look back. She too, was dissolving into pain, but her toned muscled body never showed it.

* * *

While one sister was dissolving; the other had been reflecting on how helpful she had been.

“I’m _not_ saying I could be a therapist,” Shaw said and meant – ‘ _but we both know I could be if I wanted to’_ – “… but it’s not really that hard.”

“Really?” Root asked because she wanted to give Sameen a minute to think about what she just said.

“You think you possess the interpersonal and communication skills that are required to be able to listen to people...all day long?” Genrika asked, more to the point.

Shaw stared at the youth. “I don’t have what it takes to listen to you asking that one question; but what I do have, is a good sense of helpful advice. I can size up a situation quickly, assess what needs to be done, address the best way to handle it, and…,” she boasted, taking one more bite of what Isabelle put in front of her, “…whadizdis?” she asked instead of continuing her thought.

The chef looked at the woman who refused to chew any further until she knew what she had put in her mouth without looking. Isabelle leaned over closer to Shaw and responded; “Fruit.”

Only then, did Shaw look down to confirm that the odd shape and texture in her mouth was something edible. “Okay,” she said, chewing and swallowing.

Michael watched and enjoyed the lilt in her mother’s voice as she bragged. She also watched her other mother’s expression. They didn’t match.

“So, you helped Ayala?” Root got back to the issue.

“Yes!” her wife answered affirmatively. “I simply told Martine…,” she said and then realized what she had said. “…and under no circumstances is anyone to get _excited_ over this…” she warned and turned to Gen.

“I can’t wait,” the youth admitted.

“I told her to tell my sister how…she…you know… _felt_ ,” Shaw finished the sentence with a ‘ _There_!’ tone in her voice.

“That was wonderful,” Root said because that really was sage advice.

“Right?” Shaw said, pleased that Root was pleased. “ _See_?” she said to the doubtful youth sitting there. “Easy!”

While the would-be relationship counselor was taking the proverbial bow over her insightful advice, her sister was getting enraged.

* * *

The door to the kitchen burst open; surprising everyone in the kitchen – except, oddly enough, Michael.

“What the hell did you say to her?” Ayala demanded to know because she didn’t yet know how to say her she was crushed and in pain.

“I believe someone needs another session, Doctor,” Root turned back and whispered to her wife.

Ayala couldn’t hold back the tears and collapsed into hysterics, returning to the living room.

All eyes came back to look at Shaw, who was returning to her fruit. “What?” Shaw had to ask. “I didn’t’ do anything; that…,” she said, waving her finger at the distance – “…is their issue.”

Not one person in the room believed that. Even Michael let out a little scream.

“Why do I…?” Shaw tried, but Root gave her that all knowing look which told her she already knew why.

“See!” Shaw said, getting off her stool. “This is why you don’t help people. Once you do, they pull you into the cesspool of issues and before you know it, you’re knee-deep in…stuff!”

Of all the women in the room who knew that Shaw would let off steam and then go do the right thing, Michael was the least patient. A scream came from her toes as she expressed her displeasure with the situation.

“Fine!” Shaw said without thinking. “I’m going.” With that, she started to walk out of the kitchen, but realized she had left her food. ‘I’m taking this,” she mumbled as she came back for the fruit. Then, she stopped and returned, grabbing the energy bar. “You really should work on this,” she told the prodigy again.

Root bit her lip because a _flummoxed Sameen_ was also an _adorable Sameen_. “Good luck, Sweetie,” she said as she kissed her wife on the way out.

Root had no doubt that she could help her sister.

* * *

While tensions were mounting in New York, they were finding blissful release upstate. Zoe decided she thoroughly enjoyed second dates in the shower and if she kept a diary, which she didn’t, she would have drawn red hearts around the entry. For a woman who didn’t seem to know her way around a bar, Janine certainly was skilled in their new venue. The younger woman would never quite be able to explain why she invited Zoe in, except that the woman made her feel safe and wonderful.

The physical experience peeled back another layer in their blossoming relationship and practically landed Janine in a new plane. She was simply put – in the moment. She wasn’t thinking about anything except the woman in front of her. They had lunch and talked about things; they went for massages and then relaxed by the pool where Janine explained her fair skin required that she lather on sunscreen all over her body. An innocent declaration that, reflected in Zoe’s knowing eyes, made the couple dissolve into laughter.

“I think I can help with that,” Zoe smiled as she applied the lotion to the places Janine couldn’t reach; and some she could.

* * *

Shaw marched into the living room murmuring to herself that this was proof – no good deed went unpunished. Ayala was curled up in the fetal position on the couch; her face buried as she sobbed.

“What happened?” Shaw asked and Ayala knew she was only there because Root convinced her.

“What do you care?” said the younger sibling, who thought her sister was sent by Root.

“What happened?” Shaw asked a second time.

Ayala rose slowly and wiped away tears. “She…broke up…with me,” she said, the impact of that piercing her heart. “What do I do?”

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said softly and went to sit on the couch next to her sobbing sibling. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean, what did I do? I didn’t get to say a word! She said she knew I would do something like that and yet, it’s not what she wants and we should take a break!” she related all in one breath.

“So, a break isn’t breaking up; it’s a …,” Shaw said, but didn’t really know.

“It’s breaking up, Shaw!” Ayala filled in the blank.

“Well, then you better figure out what to do, because you don’t want that,” Shaw lectured.

“I don’t know what to do!” Ayala confessed. “I have to think about this…,” the woman said and got up to walk away.

“Okay, good,” Shaw said, assuming her sister was walking to the elevator.

But she wasn’t; she was on her way upstairs.

* * *

Time slowed down as the women came back and showered – again – and dressed for another wonderful dinner. But that night, there was no clubbing afterwards; just sipping drinks in front of the fire in terry cloth robes. This night, it was Janine who maneuvered the conversation to Zoe and the woman found herself revealing things, she rarely told anyone.

“And that’s how I decided what my career would be,” the Fixer explained as her head lay in Janine’s lap, the flames reflecting in their glasses. Zoe had told her about the mob of reporters on her lawn when her father, who was a city official, became entangled in a corruption case. The party sent a man who handled the crowd, making them leave. “I saw that and decided that I wanted to fix things for people as easily as he had done.”

“Wow,” Janine said softly. “I would have been too afraid to figure anything out.”

“You would have charmed them into leaving,” Zoe smiled, looking up at blue eyes that reflected everything good in the world.

And then, as if she needed to announce it, Janine looked down and announced;

“I’m going to make insane passionate love to you.”

Zoe Morgan thought for a second; she might have died and gone to heaven.


	40. Making it Work

Martine held onto her frustration and hurt until she reached Golds Gym; where she then poured every ounce of that pain into lifting such heavy weights; it shamed the men next to her. It was the healthiest way she could think of dealing with the out-of-control feelings she felt about the situation. Martine was used to being the solid one in relationships; the one who stood erect while everyone else fell apart around her. She learned the hard way that allowing her feelings to come to the forefront messed her up. So, she fought like hell to regain her senses and control, by dead lifting weights that even Shaw would be impressed with.

Of course, it was also easier to wipe the errant tears when they simply fell among the beads of sweat.

* * *

While Martine was flexing her muscles, Shaw was upstairs trying to flex hers in getting her sister to open the door.

“Gezzus, Ayala; you’re not five! Open the damn door,” was Sameen’s first attempt.

“NO!” came the answer through sobs.

Shaw glared at the door as if she could burn a hole into it. “I do not have time for this,” she reminded her sister.

“Then, go away!” Ayala said, her head buried in a pillow in the guest bedroom.

“Grrrr!” Shaw grunted and started to walk away, but came back. “Okay, look, you’re not the first couple to hit a bump in the road. Root and I have had bumps – although I never acted like an idiot, so there’s that.”

* _Wailing gets louder_ *

“What?” Shaw asked, because she didn’t understand how unhelpful her comparison was. Then, drawing on perhaps some unconscious notion of what a parent would do, Sameen got closer to the door and demanded; “Open… this… door… now!”

And it worked.

A red eyed, tear soaked Ayala unlocked the door and stood there, sniffling and shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Okay, then,” Shaw said, stepping inside and trying to decide if this was better or should she have just made a run for it. “Let’s… sit down.”

Ayala was fighting like hell to hold back the sobs that were pushing at her. She opened the door because she knew her sister meant it when she said she would leave. And then where would she be?

Now that Sameen was inside, she was less sure of what to do. “Do you want… to… talk about it?” she guessed, but cringed at the same time.

If talking about broken romances was low on Sameen’s list; talking about other feelings was even lower.

Ayala let Sameen sit, but she paced as she tried to put all her thoughts together. She wiped her eyes, accepted the tissue her sister offered, and swallowed hard.

“I hated you growing up,” was not what Shaw expected to hear, but did.

“Yeah, I think we covered this before,” Shaw said, not wanting to spend time on it.

“I used to imagine you were this awful person who didn’t deserve my mother,” Ayala continued.

“I know; that must have been hard,” Shaw said, because she was quietly praying that she’d find the right words. ‘ _What would Campbell say?_ ’ she repeated in her head.

“When I found out I was finally going to meet you; I couldn’t wait,” Ayala said and stopped walking.

“Really?” Shaw asked, thinking this was one of those stories where you don’t see the twists and turns.

“I couldn’t wait to tell my mother that she had been blinded by her guilt, and that you weren’t worth her time,” Ayala said, trying to sound angry. What was really happening was the hurt she felt over Martine, was touching her other deep hurts.

“Look, Ayala, neither of us had it easy, okay? I mean, I didn’t have her and missed out on that, you had her and missed out of all of her attention, I guess,” Shaw tried to empathize. “Neither situation was good, trust me.”

“I know. She told me how you had lost your father, although that wasn’t until I was older,” Ayala explained. “After I lost mine.”

“Well, maybe she shouldn’t have shared that tidbit,” Shaw said, looking away.

“Then, I met you,” Ayala sped up the story. “And I wanted to be angry with you, for casting that shadow I lived in all my life.”

“Hey, there was _no_ shadow, okay? There was your insecurity or whatever it was; but - there was no shadow,” Shaw balked.

“This? What’s going on right now between us? That sums you up, Shaw,” Ayala said softly. “You refuse to believe you cast that darkness where you block the light. I thought it was just with Mommy; but it’s not. You don’t want to do it, but you can’t help it. After we met, I got a chance to see what it was like to be on the other side of you – not in the coldness, but in front of you …”

“Okay, I don’t know that this has to do with anything,” Shaw said, getting up and feeling very uncomfortable from the spotlight her sister held her in.

“The irony is, Shaw; you hate being in the spotlight,” Ayala laughed softly. “I don’t hate you, Shaw. I wanted you to know that.”

“O…kay, good. I’m glad we got that cleared up. Now, what about…?” Shaw said, thrown by this conversation.

“I screwed up. I think I wanted to go with Fusco because he was your buddy. I wanted to be as good as you were on cases. I was so focused on that, I lost sight that Martine would not have stopped me,” the younger woman confessed. “I really screwed up.”

The heartfelt confession made Sameen stop and pull her sister to sit down.

“Look, people like Martine are rare. You are not going to find many people who can put up with your brand of crazy,” Shaw lectured.

“Oh, thanks,” Ayala interjected.

“I’m serious; and I know because I have it, too,” Sameen confessed. “Not exactly like you…,’ she felt she needed to point out, “…no one could put up with me, but Root.”

“That’s true,” Ayala agreed, and now it was her sister’s turn to glare at a remark.

“You have to get your act together and get Martine to see you’re willing to make changes,” Shaw continued.

“How? How am I supposed to change? This is who I am!” the impulsive twenty-something declared.

Sameen drew a deep breath. She didn’t like the continued questioning of her sound advice. Now, she was asking – ‘ _What would Root do?_ ’ and she knew immediately it would be something calming and caring.

“No one knows better than me - how hard it is to make changes, kid. If you had asked me if I could change for anyone, I would have said you were crazy. What I was then; what I became before Root - is what got me through life. I would never have given up any of that,” she shared.

“But Root _made_ you change?” Ayala tried to jump to the punch line.

“You see this thing you do?” Shaw said, waving her finger back and forth between them to indicate her sister’s impatience. “It’s annoying,” she assessed.

“Sorry,” Ayala said.

“No, Root didn’t make me change. In fact, it was the opposite,” Sameen said and her sister listened attentively now. “Root…,” Shaw said and had to take a moment out to smile just thinking about her, “…accepted me for who I was. She never asked me to change a thing.”

Ayala listened, but decided in haste her situation was different. “Well, Martine is asking me to change.”

“No, she’s not,” Shaw said knowingly. “She’s asking you to start thinking like a couple; she’s asking you to remember that what you do, affects her. And she’s asking that you tell her ahead of time, things you’ve decided to do. Like play cops and robbers with Fusco.”

Ayala wanted to tell her sister she was wrong, but in her heart, she knew Sameen was right.

“What do I do, Shaw?” Ayala asked. “How do I make this right?”

Sameen didn’t want to just throw out any answer; she wanted to think about it. “Do you love her?”

“Yes, yes, more than anything!” Ayala declared.

“Then…,” her older, sager sibling concluded, “…you’re going to change. You’re going to think about the things you do that hurt your relationship, and you’re going to change those things.”

Ayala sat back to take in what sounded like simple advice, but was weighted with wisdom. “Okay,” she agreed and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

Shaw smiled, thinking she had done what she set out to do.

But, her sister wasn’t done.

* * *

“Okay, so do I call her? Do I send her flowers? Do I go to her apartment and beg? Oh, maybe I should write her… like a love poem?” Ayala asked, as she followed Shaw downstairs.

“A love poem?” Shaw repeated, completely out of her depth here.

“Yes, a written expression on how much I feel for her,” Ayala explained.

“I know what it is; sure, that’s a great idea. Go to Mommy’s and write a love …whatever,” Shaw said, thinking she was incredibly hungry.

“Then, I will send it with flowers!” Ayala planned out. “Or I will deliver them,” she considered.

“All good choices,” Shaw said. “Now, go to Mommy’s and compose your poem…”

“Thanks, Shaw,” Ayala stopped to say. “Thank you for listening to me. And for helping me.” Of course, she reached out and grabbed her sister into a tight bear-hug to show her appreciation.

“You’re hurting me,” Shaw said, her head pressed hard against her sister.

* * *

Root appeared to see the siblings hugging. “That’s my girl,” she whispered to Michael in her arms. “Your mommy can do anything,” she added. Michael squealed with delight.

“Everything okay here?” Root asked, smiling at her wife and handing her the baby.

“Sameen was wonderful, Root,” Ayala shared. “She’s so understanding.”

“She is wonderful,” Root concurred and her eyes were smiling at her wife.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sameen dismissed the mushy talk. “Is there anything for breakfast? Has that Kid come up with something edible yet?”

“You won’t believe this, but Gen asked Isabelle if she had time to help her put together a recipe!” Root said excitedly.

“See? _Now_ , the Kid will finally be able to put that huge brain of hers to work for something good,” Shaw assessed.

“Do you have paper, Root?” Ayala asked.

“No, wait; you’re supposed to do that…” Shaw tried, but Root was already showing her sister-in-law where to find the pad.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Ayala shouted as she ran up the stairs to the guest bedroom to begin the task of committing her deepest feelings to the written word.

“Don’t worry,” Shaw said, turning to Michael, “…that crazy isn’t on our side of the family.”

Michael yelled and frowned at her mother.

“I swear she’s trying to boss me,” Shaw said to Root and she wasn’t kidding.

“This little sweetie? I don’t think so! Are you trying to boss your Mommy?” Root cooed to her daughter.

Michael dissolved into chubby cheek smiles, but her eyes were locked on Sameen. She pushed her head forward and opened her mouth on Shaw’s cheek.

“Root!” Shaw said in amazement. “I think she just kissed me!”

Michael squealed with how excited her mothers were. She’d have to remember to do that more often.

* * *

Sunday morning found Ayala asleep at the desk where rolled up pieces of paper surrounded her head. Sameen had said good night and figured her sister would eventually go to bed. While she burned the midnight oil, Sameen and Root slept peacefully through the night. Michael’s ability to last the night without waking was a gift.

Zoe couldn’t remember a better night’s sleep, even though it was not her usual eight hours. Janine’s tender lovemaking and her energized reciprocation over long hours had blissfully exhausted every muscle in her body. She turned to see her lover asleep under the blankets next to her. They never made it to the bedroom that night; and slept on the floor in front of the fireplace.  They had pulled every blanket and pillow they could find to make the setting comfortable. 

Now, Zoe slipped back into the terry cloth robe and freshened up. She quietly ordered a continental breakfast for both of them and whispered to the man who brought it up, minutes later. Then, she poured a cup of coffee and returned to the couch – where she could gaze down at the place where the woman who brought her to new heights last night, slept.

“Are you even real?” Zoe whispered about the woman - to the gods she wasn’t even sure existed. She could only account for Janine’s presence to a higher being.

Moments later, Janine stretched and opened her sleepy eyes. Her hand instinctively reached for her partner. Her eyes shot opened when she felt nothing; a telling that a part of her feared Zoe’s disappearance. She broke into a soft smile when she saw the woman sitting on the couch.  "We never made it to bed?" she asked and smiled, knowing the answer.

“I ordered coffee,” Zoe said and Janine smiled her gratitude. “I thought you _might_ just be hungry,” Zoe laughed and slipped down on the floor next to Janine.

“Actually, I am,” Janine said, her body responding to feeling Zoe slip into her arms as they lay on a pile of blankets  Her entire being craved the intense feeling of connecting physically with this woman; it was the hunger of a new relationship that so often feels insatiable.

And then proving that playfulness could override innocence at any time with this woman, she pulled Zoe's body on top of hers.  "Like this," Janine further instructed, and ran her hands along Zoe's smooth thighs until her legs straddled her. Now, Zoe was practically sitting on Janine's abdomen.  “Let’s try it this way,” Janine suggested from beneath, her innocent voice equaled by her devilish grin.

“Do you think…,” Zoe was asking when her body was pulled into place above Janine’s mouth; her long legs now on either side of the younger woman's head.  Zoe found she had to lean forward; grabbing onto the couch  to support herself. “Oh…my…God,” came the loud squeal from the usually deep voiced woman as ripples of joy immediately started to build.

What Janine lacked in experience was made up for by her quick learning skills and her ability to read what people liked.

And by _all_ accounts, Zoe Morgan liked _this_ very much.

Zoe could not remember a time when her body quaked with excitement quite like this.  She reciprocated in kind, intent on learning just what it took to make this wonderful creature come to the brink of intense pleasure and then gently, push her over.

"If only I could slow down time," Zoe said to her lover.

"If anyone could, it would be you," Janine replied. 


	41. The Weekend's Not Over Just Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering what Janine might look like, I've posted a board on Pinterest - : The Matchmaker Series at ManhattaniteNYC. To find it - there's a link on Twitter under ManhattaniteNYC OR follow these Pinterest instructions (maybe?)
> 
> Locate the search tool on the Pinterest mobile app and ensure that after you've typed in a person's name, that you choose the pinner option. This is because by default, it will search for pins instead of Pinterest users
> 
> Thanks to DrakaVale who reminded me - Shaw wasn't going to let Gen go to the college dance alone!

Sameen naturally assumed her sister left because it was late Sunday afternoon and there had been no sign of her.

Gen was finishing up some work with Root, while Shaw was playing with Michael in the living room.

“Watch carefully,” Sameen instructed the baby. “This is how you get them to sit.” Sameen then looked at the two canines that were standing there. “Sit!” she commanded. The dogs just stared in response. She repeated it to no avail. “That’s weird, because  I’m pretty sure I pressed one for ENGLISH!” she yelled at them.

‘ _I don’t like the yelling_ ,’ Shadow barked.

’ _I’ve been over this a million times with he_ r,’ Bear replied.

“What a waste of time,” Shaw complained about the hours she tried to train them.

’ _What a waste of time_ ,’ Shadow said of the hours they spent on Sameen.

’ _Give her time_ ,’ Bear replied.

”Are...you two... _talking_ about me?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

Bear barked _no_ , but they couldn’t look Sameen in the eye.

Then, the _one_ person not involved in the argumentative back and forth took charge. Michael had been observing what her mother had been attempting to do. She let out her best imitation of what Shaw said. To her mother, it was a high pitched monosyllabic squeal. But to the highly sensitive auditory dogs, the command was clear.

”Are you trying to tell them to sit? Is that what you’re doing?” Shaw asked, facing her daughter and talking in that sing song voice babies and puppies reduce us to. “Don’t get discouraged…,” Shaw consoled the baby, “...they’re very...,” she was saying when the two dogs sat down. Sameen’s head twisted back and forth as she tried to figure out what happened. “Did you…?” she asked Michael and scrunched up her face at how ridiculous the question was. She turned to the dogs; “Come here,” she said and neither moved. Her head shot back at Michael, who again, did her best to copy what her mother said. The dogs immediately moved and came on either side of the baby seat and wagged their tails. Sameen actually moved back out of the way to let them pass. “ROOT?” she called out because she needed someone to explain this to her.

Root appeared immediately, with Gen on her heals. “Yes, Sweetie?”

“I think…the dogs are…Michael is…no, that’s impossible,” Shaw said, her finger pointing at the baby, and then the canines.

“What, Sweetie?” Root asked and Gen noticed how soothing Root always tried to be when the littlest thing upset her wife.

“I think…,” Shaw started to say and then lowered her voice to a whisper when she saw Gen, “…they think…she’s talking to them.” She was talking out of the side of her mouth, and Root had to strain to understand her. Gen’s giggle informed Shaw that everyone heard her.  “Don’t you have some place to be?” Shaw asked, peeking out from around Root.

“Yes, actually,” Gen said smiling, “…I have to get ready for the Freshman Dance.”

That was not what Sameen needed to hear. “Wait, we agreed…we told her…you’re not going,” Shaw said as if the youth had forgotten their agreed upon decision.

“I think we said we didn’t _really_ have a say,” Root whispered.

“I think we said we didn’t think she should go,” Shaw corrected her wife who wasn’t wrong. “Let’s ask Michael,” Shaw decided since she was convinced her daughter was developing an acute sixth sense.

The baby looked over at Gen and then at her mothers. She didn’t say a word. If Bear could have laughed, he would have, but instead he howled how funny that was.

“You, stop!” Shaw commanded. “You?” she said in much kinder tone to the baby. “You’re not going to a dance _ever_ , so you might want to reconsider your non response,” she smiled.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Gen waved as she went to the elevator.

“She’s not…no!” Shaw said and wanted Root to fill in everything in between.

“We’d love to accompany you,” Root said to the youth.

Gen’s shoulders dropped as if she was greatly disappointed, but since socializing was not her thing; she was secretly happy for the company. “Is that a request?”

“No! What time?” Shaw asked, happy her wife sorted that mess out.

“Eight,” Gen said as she got on the elevator.

“We’ll pick you up at 8:15,” Shaw said as the door closed.

“YES!” Gen said, as her arm came down with a clenched fist in a show of excitement.

“ _What_ was she thinking?” Shaw asked and Root wanted to say that Gen probably was thinking how great it would be to have Shaw as her personal bodyguard at a dance where she was the youngest by far…but didn’t. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders as if she had no idea.

* * *

It wasn’t until things had quieted down again, did Ayala surprise the couple by coming downstairs.

“Why are you here?” Shaw asked, very confused.

“I tried to write that poem, but nothing came!” she whined. “Martine isn’t picking up her phone!”

“They didn’t teach you poetry in Israeli boot camp?” her older sister snickered.

“Will you help me?” Ayala asked.

“No, no, no, no and let me think… NO!” Shaw said.

“Good, I’ll get what I wrote and you can look over it as you eat,” Ayala said, dismissing the negative responses.

“What is with her and the poor listening skills? Where is my mother?” Sameen asked.

“Actually, we’ll need her to babysit tonight…,” Root suggested.

“Good! And maybe she can look after Michael while we accompany Wonder Child to the dance. Twenty minutes at most,” Shaw decided.

“She won’t have time to dance in twenty minutes,” Root smiled.

“Exactly,” Shaw replied, happy to see they were on the same page.

* * *

Ayala did bring her crumpled up pieces of paper to the kitchen as Shaw ate dinner before the dance.

“If you started with _roses are red_ , I’m going to wrestle you to the floor,” Shaw warned.

“Roses are red,” Ayala started, but pulled out of the way when her sister went to grab her. “No, I didn’t,” she said and sat back down.

Azar had been summoned by text to come get her daughter. What really made her come to the Penthouse was the request to watch her granddaughter. Now, she was there with another stuffed animal and an outfit for the baby she adored.

“Oh, finally!” Shaw said when Root came into the kitchen with her mother, who was holding Michael.

“I have missed you,” Azar was saying to the baby.

“Haven’t you missed…?” Shaw said, waving her hand at her sister, who was still trying to write her love poem.

“Of course, I missed all my children,” Azar said, kissing her daughters hello. “How are you?” she asked Ayala.

“How is she? She’s still here - is how she is,” Shaw complained.

“We love having her,” Root tried to cover her wife’s abrasiveness.

“Not really,” Shaw said back to Root, but frowned when she saw Root’s expression. “Okay, a little we like it.”

“Gee thanks,” Ayala said, but wasn’t discouraged. “I’m writing Martine a love poem,” she told her mother.

“Seriously, I have to ask; did you drop her on her head or something?” Shaw asked because all of these issues were interrupting her meal.

“Of course not!” Azar replied.

“We have to go, Sweetie,” Root said, and now Shaw noticed the dark blue dress she had on that hugged every part of her body.

“Why are you…?” Shaw asked.

“I thought I’d dress up,” Root smiled. “Do you want to…?”

“No! This isn’t going to be fun, Root. It’s like a mission. We’re in, we’re out,” Shaw explained. And then in case Root missed her point, she repeated; “In…and out.”

“Actually, that sounds like something completely different to me…,” Root whispered, but Shaw was already yelling her name.

“ROOT! My mother,” Shaw said in a louder voice than Root had ever used. Of course, this only called attention to the conversation.

The couple kissed their daughter goodbye and Root thanked Azar for babysitting.

“We’ve been babysitting her baby all weekend,” Shaw quipped.

“My love for you runs deeper than snow in December…,” Ayala read her lines out loud.

“Mom, help her. She’s going to make Martine shoot her tomorrow,” Shaw explained as the elevator door closed.

* * *

It took a few minutes for Sameen to stop complaining and rolling her eyes, before she noticed just how beautiful her wife looked. “Well, don’t you look wonderful,” Shaw said, pulling Root’s hips into her. The sensation of their bodies touching was enough to make Sameen reconsider that perhaps Gen was old enough to go to the dance. “No,” she said, her shoulders slumping downward in response to her internal question of whether they should go back upstairs.

“You know, I’m thinking if you play your cards right,” Root said, reading her wife perfectly, “...I might just go home with you.”

Sameen’s face lit up at Root’s simple solution to her problem. “Oh? In that case, I’m going to play like a card shark.”

* * *

Zoe Morgan and Janine were driving back after enjoying their last day of their short escape. The driver prayed the time would slow down because she simply didn’t want the weekend to end. She had thought it would be interesting; she had no idea it would be … glorious.

“I had a really nice time,” Janine said, when Zoe pulled up outside her apartment.

“I did, too,” Zoe concurred.

Then, silence filled the car as neither woman wanted to be the one to make it end. “I should…,” Janine finally said, not wanting to keep Zoe any longer.

“I should go, too…,” Zoe pointed her finger towards the direction she needed to go.

“Okay then,” Janine said and leaned over to thank her most gracious hostess.

Zoe’s kiss made Janine feel lightheaded and she fell back in the seat when she let go. “I… I’m…,” Janine got out, but that was all she could say.

“Do you want company doing it?” Zoe asked, hoping to fill in the blank.

“Yes,” Janine said, grateful their weekend was not ending yet.


	42. Show of Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: My very good attentive readers pointed out that the scene in chapter 40 between Zoe and Janine was confusing at least, muddled at best. So, I rewrote it a bit to make it clearer (I hope). 
> 
> Also, thanks for your patience about the Pinterest link. I put it on Twitter. It's under ManhattaniteNYC, but you must look for pinners, or it will assume you mean 'pins'.

Sameen was serious when she said Gen had twenty minutes at the dance. They picked the youth up and drove to the dance at Columbia University uptown. The young freshman received more lectures in the car ride there, than she had heard all week in her classes.

“And no going off; I’m going to have eyes on you the whole time,” her self-appointed body guard added.

“Okay,” Gen said, with the exasperated tone any fourteen year old would have when the guardian was controlling their lives.

“She didn’t roll her eyes at me, did she?” the woman who perfected the eye-roll asked Root.

“I don’t think so,” Root said, because she understood the rock and hard place Gen was between. She wanted to go and be part of the college life, but she would have preferred it was at a library. Having Sameen there was perfect, but she couldn’t possible act like it was, for fear of being totally uncool.

* * *

The three entered the building and ID’s were checked. Sameen noticed the sign that announced this was a non-alcoholic function. “What kind of school are you going to?” she had to ask.

A group of girls, at least three or four years older than Genrika, came screaming down the hall at how ‘adorable’ their young classmate looked. Gen blushed and tried to shrug it off, but she was enjoying the attention.

“Is _this_ … _your_ … _Mom_?” one of them asked when she saw Shaw.

Instantly, and we mean faster than a speeding bullet; Root grabbed her wife’s hand that was on its way to express her displeasure over that question. “What the…?” Shaw was asking.

“You look _so_ young!” another said, getting in Shaw’s personal space; acting the way people do when think bars at a zoo will protect them from wild animals. “What do you do? Facials?”

Shaw stiffened and turned to face the inquisitive girl. “Actually, I shoot people, but my friends keep telling me it’s bad.”

Root pursed her lips; Gen froze in her place, as Shaw’s glare intensified.

“Oh my, God! Your mother is _so_ funny!” the girl shrieked by Sameen’s ear as she grabbed Gen’s arm. “But tell your mother not to joke about gun violence, okay?” she whispered, thinking the woman remark was funny, but insensitive.

“Root!” Shaw said, as the woman restrained her hand again.

“Let’s just go inside, Sweetie,” Root said, her voice having a calming effect.

“We’re home schooling Michael until she’s out of college,” Shaw decided on the spot.

* * *

The women went into the larger room where music blared and non-alcoholic drinks flowed. Gen wasn’t the only underage college student, as the university had its share of prodigies. Still, the room contained most of the items on the invisible list – ‘Things that Sameen Shaw Hates Under One Roof’.

“Your mom is so hot,” a boy said to Gen and then apologized profusely, saying he meant no disrespect.

“She’s not…,” Gen started to say again, but stopped. “No problem,” she said instead. She, too, would indulge in this fantasy of Shaw as her mother. 

“Did you notice the lack of security at this place?” Shaw asked her wife, who was sipping on a cranberry juice. “Anyone could get in here.”

Root looked around to make sure what she saw all looked okay. Her wife was right in that security seemed light, even though there were guards placed throughout the school.

As soon as Shaw caught Gen’s eyes from across the room, she tapped her watch to indicate that minutes were passing and she only had fifteen of them left. A boy was holding her interest though and tempting her with something she was finding most interesting.

“What is he saying to her?” Shaw asked, because she could tell he had Gen’s attention.

“I’m not sure…,” Root was saying, but Shaw was already walking over. “Okay, we’ll go see…”

“It’s at least _this_ long..,” the boy was explaining as he spread his hands apart, “and I bet you’ve never seen one like it,” he said.

“Really?” Gen said, unaware of the incoming force.

“I’ll show you, if we can get out of here,” the boy promised.

Shaw heard that and grabbed the youth by his shoulder and spun him around so fast, his glasses were askew on his head.

“What? What are you talking about? Are you kidding me? Do you want me to break your…,” Shaw was threatening, when Gen shook her head side to side to inform her friend she had misunderstood.

“Tim is majoring in robotics,” Gen said and raised her eyebrows.

“So?” Shaw said, holding him on his toes as she lifted him up by his lapel

“He was inviting me to the robotics lab to see their entry,” Gen said, caught between embarrassed and in awe of her body guard.

“I bet!” Shaw said, glaring in his face now and making perspiration appear on his forehead.

“His team has equipped theirs with a twelve inch arm,” Gen said, and put her hands out to explain the innocent gesture the boy had used.

“What? Oh,” Shaw said, putting him down and then, as a gesture of apology; dusted off the imaginary specs on his jacket. “Sorry about that,” she smiled a forced smile.

The boy started to breathe again, just as Sameen turned to him and said, “This is a dance,” she said, having decided the boy was not of legal age and nerdy enough to be safe. “Go dance,” she instructed, and grabbed his hand and Gen’s and put them together. “Times a wasting,” she said as Gen’s widened eyes looked at her.

“Root!” Gen pleaded to stop her wife. Gen was mortified; the boy was thrilled.

“Your mom says we should dance,” he said, his voice almost squeaking.

The two teenagers walked to the middle of the floor and began their awkward movements together.

“We need to get her dance lessons,” Shaw noted as two boys – who were the typical age of college freshmen, walked over to the couple.

“How would you two like to leave this place and come back to our dorm for a real party,” one asked.

Shaw put her hand on one of their shoulders and turned them around. “Do you see that girl out there? Could we bring her?”

“What is she? One of those nerd geniuses?” he asked, looking over. He didn’t realize this was a test; one he was about to fail. “I like my women older, but I could make an exception.”

Shaw pushed his so hard and so fast against a wall, that it knocked the wind out of him. “If you ever go near her, or any woman without her consent, I will find you. I will hunt you down and I will make you sorry. Now, for the next four years; when you see that girl, you will be the most polite sonova bitch you can be or I will come back,” she growled in his face.

“She really means it,” Root said to his friend.

Shaw released him as his friend came to his side and grabbed him to leave.

“That’s it,” Shaw said, after watching them leave. “Michael is _never_ leaving the house.”

“She’s going to do just fine, Shaw,” Root said, taking her wife’s arm and feeling the adrenaline that caused her body to stiffen.

The song was over; and the boy had lasted long enough to impress Gen with his efforts. He walked her back to – the couple he assumed was her parents.

“I would like to ask your permission to take Genrika out to Starbucks,” he said as if he memorized his line.

“What the hell do I care if you …,” Shaw was asking, when Root cleared her throat to give her wife a moment to think about that. “Oh,” she said, realizing what she got herself into. “Do you want to go with this nerd?” she asked Gen, who thought she might just die.

“Yes,” Gen said because he had suggested they could discuss the math that was needed for the robotic venture.

“I suggested we could discuss how I designed…,” he was explaining when Shaw decided it would be torture to go with them.

“Root’s your girl, then. She’ll go with you,” Shaw said, patting Root on the back and volunteering her.

“I’d be happy to,” Root said and now Shaw looked at her for agreeing so quickly. Sameen was happy Root consented, but shook her head at how enthusiastically she did so.

Gen’s face lit up as the night was turning out much better than she had hoped. “Could I stay a little longer?” she pleaded, her hands clasped in front of her.

Shaw looked at Root for the answer because her inclination was to say no. “Sure,” she said, because the little voice in her head that sounded amazingly like Root told her to say that.

“You make an excellent chaperone _slash_ body guard _slash_ mother,” Root’s eyes smiled at Sameen.

“Yeah, yeah; it’s exhausting,” Shaw noted.

“Well, maybe I can rub those tired muscles later,” Root whispered in her wife’s ear, making her feel like she could last a little longer.

Those jobs might have been draining; but, they impressed Root – so Sameen was all for it.

* * *

Two hours later; and after Shaw had pretty much stared down every other freshmen at the dance, reminding some of them that she never forgot a face; it was time to go home.  
Root drove as Sameen fell asleep in the back seat.

“Thanks, guys, I had a blast,” Gen said when they walked her to Harold’s apartment. “I’ll have your new energy bar tomorrow, Shaw!” she called as she went inside. Grace came into the hallway to thank them for going with her.

“No problem; Root and I are going to become professional babysitters soon,” Shaw said, but of course, Grace had no idea what she meant.

The couple went home and found Azar, sitting on the couch with her daughter’s head in her lap. Ayala had told her mother everything that happened and the good advice her older sister gave her. She cried a little when she said how Martine wasn’t answering her phone.

“Tomorrow,” her mother consoled her, as her granddaughter slept soundly.

Michael was beginning to understand what Bear meant when he talked to her before.

Watching after grownups was _exhausting_.

* * *

When the next day came; Root and Shaw arrived at work – perhaps not well rested, but certainly happy.

“Ms. Shaw?” the guard at the desk called and then had to take a call. He was waving her over and pointing to a large package of long stem roses.

Naturally, she assumed they were for her.

“Who sent you those?” Root asked, wheeling Michael in the carriage as they went on the elevator.

“I bet it’s Fusco apologizing for picking my sister,” Shaw blurted out and then realized that it sounded as if she were jealous – WHICH SHE WAS NOT! “I mean, I don’t know,” Shaw grumbled as she opened the card.

“ _I had the most wonderful time_ ,” she read out loud and changed her mind that it might be her sister. “I guess I was helpful,” Shaw smiled. “ _Your sweet kisses and exquisite touches_ …,” she read out loud – and everyone on the elevator heard her. She quickly shut her eyes; pushed the card back into the small envelop and finally, looked at the name. “I’m never going to unsee that!” she announced to her wife.

“Those are for Janine?” Root whispered.

“I need to wash my eyes out,” Shaw said dramatically.

“That’s so sweet,” Root said, thinking they might be from Zoe.

“My eyes hurt; they actually hurt,” Shaw said, because she didn’t share the rest of the rather explicit contents of the card.

“I think it’s sweet,” Root said, and nudged her wife.

“Do we have vision coverage here?” Shaw asked, not relenting.

“We will see you later,” Root smiled and kissed her emotionally upset wife goodbye. “Say goodbye to Mommy,” she said to Michael who remembered to open her mouth wide so her mother would get excited.

“She kissed me again, Root!” Shaw said, forgetting her turmoil.

* * *

It was a wonderful distraction for the woman who – as soon as she got to her office – noticed that the flowers she had in her hand, were only the latest delivery. Janine’s desk and cabinets were adorned with vases of different flowers. She put them down on Janine’s chair and went into her space.

“Please call in sick; please call in sick,” Sameen said, hoping her assistant needed another day to recover from what sounded like quite the escapade.

But Janine would _never_ call in sick on a Monday, when her boss needed her- and when she had _so_ much to talk about to her boss.


	43. Solving One Case at a Time

It seemed to be a race to get to Shaw’s office that morning, but Fusco beat everyone.

“Long weekend?” he asked as he walked in and looked around at the overflow of flowers that were in Sameen’s office.

“Thank God, it’s _you_! _Where_ have you been?” she asked, as if his presence would have eased any of her weekend troubles. She jumped up and pulled him into her office, looking behind him to see if anyone was there.

“Here you go,” he said instead and offered her coffee and Danish. “You’re acting more like Cocoa Puffs; what gives?”

“What gives? Someone opened up the gates of the asylum this weekend and gave out my address. Shouldn’t your girlfriend be standing out there with a huge net to catch them?” Shaw asked.

“You want she should stand there? And catch them?” he asked to be sure.

“It would be like shooting fish in a barrel,” Shaw said, grabbing the bag.

“We’ve been over how that’s not a good….Okay, I get it,” he relented.

“You’re not having any?” she said, shoving a Bear Claw in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m back on the diet,” Fusco lamented sadly.

“The Doc mad at you?” Shaw asked, unsure of whose side she’d be on.

“More for the jelly donuts than the stakeout,” he said and then realized they had not discussed it yet. “Funny, being on a stake-out…with a vegetarian, ha – ha,” he said weakly.

“What…was…up…with…that?” she asked, because she’d been holding onto it since Friday.

Fusco knew exactly what that tone was. She was pissed. “Hey, you didn’t answer your phone and Captain America and Mother Theresa were gone for the day!” he said defensively.

That was a new nickname; and it threw Sameen. “Who is…?”

“Martine; mostly because she’s dating your sister,” Fusco admitted.

“That’s fair,” Shaw had to agree. “Well, she didn’t get off with the diet lecture and the two of them broke up and that meant I had her all weekend!”

“Geez,” Fusco said sympathetically. And then because Lionel had a habit of going from the frying pan directly into the fire, he added: “All of this could have been avoided if you had answered your phone, you know.”

“Are you kidding me?” she barked and almost made his spill his coffee.

“Where were you last night? I tried to call you,” he segued.

“Oh, you think my weekend got better after my sister planted herself there? No, Root and I were playing chaperone to the Kid who – by all accounts should not be at that school,” Shaw decided.

“She is young,” Fusco agreed.

“Right?” Shaw said, and he felt like maybe he was back in her good graces.

“You won’t let Michael out of the house after that, I bet,” he guessed right.

“Exactly,” Shaw said, and all was forgiven. “And guess what? Neither of those things was the worst!” she said, and strained to see if anyone was in Janine’s office.

“Seriously?” he asked with interest.

“I can’t even tell you the worst thing, but I can tell you – I will never be able to erase what I did see, okay?” Shaw whispered.

“Maybe breakfast will help?” asked the man who knew the road to this woman’s heart was littered with places to eat.

“Maybe,” Shaw said, thinking it over.

“There you are!” they heard Ayala say in a much chipper voice than she had all weekend. “My favorite sister and my favorite detective!”

Shaw looked over at Fusco and not her sister. Her eyes pleading, she never said a word. “How about we give Shaw some time to… to… do what she does,” he suggested.

“You’re very sweet, Detective,” Ayala said, recognizing his move to save her sister. “But I need her. Do you know that my sister is a very wise woman?”

“I did know that,” Fusco agreed, and not wanting to come between these two women. “What do you need her for?”

“Are these flowers for you?” Ayala said, proving everyone’s theory that she had a touch of attention deficit.

“No, they’re Janine’s and please do not remind me of that for reasons I cannot share, but trust me, are horrific,” Shaw said cryptically.

“Okay,” Ayala agreed. “Now, Martine is soon getting out of a meeting and I am waiting for her to come out. Do I … “A”; seriously - just beg, “B”; try to talk to her, “C”, get her flowers, or “D”; wait until you talk to her.”

“E”, Sameen said, not sipping a beat; “Get out of my office.”

“Noooo,” Ayala all but whined and sat down to show she wasn’t going anywhere.

“What happened to your poem?” Sameen asked.

“You wrote a poem?” Fusco inquired, trying to decide if that was a good idea or not.

“I have it here and I’m going to read it to her,” Ayala reached into her inside pocket, but Shaw stopped her.

“Keep it fresh; and I would open with that,” Shaw suggested. It would either make or break them.

Fusco cleared his throat, in a similar fashion as Root did, and the message was the same – ‘ _Think about that, Sameen_ ’.

And Sameen answered with her ever enthusiastic – “What?”

Written all over the man’s round face was the message to his buddy that Martine may not be the poetry type. And Shaw got it.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she said thinking that this was going to take too long if she left it to her sister; and it would be painful for Martine.

* * *

With that, the woman stormed out of her office, through the floral arrangements, and down to Martine’s office. And then the women, who spoke the same language, had the shortest conversation on record.

“Hey,” Shaw said, walking in and sitting down.

“Hey,” Martine said and Shaw noticed immediately the change in the woman’s face.

Shaw sat with her legs opened, her arms resting on her thighs as she spoke. “So, what can I do? I can’t hurt her, because my mother would be pissed. I can’t shut her up, because I possess no super powers. And if we don’t figure something out; she’s going to come down here and read you her poetry!”

The last sentence was enough to make Martine sit up at attention. “Poetry?” she asked, in the same tone people use when they have just been told a hurricane is headed their way. “Here?”

“Yes,” Shaw confirmed sympathetically. “She wrote it.”

“She wrote me… a poem?” Martine asked in horror at the thought of the entire floor hearing it.

“Yes, she did. Up all night composing it and while I have not heard it, my guess is your skin will fall off,” Shaw said and meant it in a kind way.

“I mean, I appreciate that she would do that…,” Martine said, but all the time, she was planning her escape route.

“If you leave, she’ll just track you down,” Shaw confirmed because she read that familiar expression.

“What do I do?” Martine asked, feeling caged in by what was happening.

“I would…,” Shaw said and then leaned over to whisper in her friend’s ear.

“Here?” Martine asked to be sure.

“It would shut her up for some time,” Shaw explained.

Martine sat back to think over her friend’s advice. “I don’t know…,” she said, because she wanted her girlfriend to think over what she had said.

“Save it for after her confession, but before the poem,” Shaw suggested as the compromise.

“Okay,” Martine said, not quite comfortable with it yet.

“Good,” Shaw said and went back out to get her sister.

* * *

“Will she see me?” Ayala asked, jumping up as soon as her sister returned.

“Yes, but you have twenty seconds to tell her how you’re wrong and what you’re going to do,” Shaw made up.

“Twenty seconds?” Ayala asked in disbelief.

“Yes, so you have to do this – get to the point!” Shaw said. “I’m sorry; I was wrong; I acted like a child; I’ll do better because I care.”

Ayala was about to protest, but she knew Sameen was right. “Okay, and then I’ll read her my poem!”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sameen said, out of the side of her mouth.

“What?” Ayala asked, getting excited about her change to make things right.

“Good luck,” Shaw said, winking and giving her sister two thumbs up.

Then, the effervescent woman pulled herself together and went down the hallway.

“You did good, Shaw,” Fusco said because underneath the rough edges, his friend was a good egg.

* * *

Ayala practiced what her sister said all the way to her girlfriend’s office. She took a deep breath and stood in the door. It was so much easier for both of them to be annoyed when they were apart. Now, facing each other, anger melted into missing.

“Can I come in?” asked the woman who usually barged into rooms.

“Yes,” Martine said, feeling her heart beat through her chest. She could smell Ayala’s perfume as soon as she arrived.

“I was so wrong,” Ayala said, and staring at Martine made it hard for her to remember the rest. “I missed you so much; but I’ll do better,” she jumbled.

Martine stood silent; listening to the woman she missed to hear the sincerity in the promises. It was palpable.

“I wrote this…,” Ayala said, and that was Martine’s cue to act on her feelings. She rushed at the younger woman and kissed her so hard, she had to grab Ayala’s arms to hold her up. “I am so sorry,” Ayala said, because that kiss – that Shaw suggested might just shut her sister up; was making her realize what was at stake.

“We’ll work it out,” Martine affirmed."We'll look at the mistakes we made."

Ayala knew her lover was being gracious by saying ‘we’; when they both knew she meant just one of them.

“I would really appreciate that chance,” Ayala said.

Shaw and Fusco watched as the reunited couple kissed goodbye at the elevator.

“You ever think about opening up your own charm school, Shaw?” he asked, nudging her shoulder.

“Take me to breakfast and you can talk me into it,” Shaw said.


	44. Great Detective Work

Fusco chose his food selections wisely, given that his girlfriend was in the building. And, of course, because of her sound argument that she wanted him to eat better because it was good for him.

“You know, it’s hard to eat pancakes with _puppy dog_ eyes on them,” Shaw complained when she noticed his longing glances. It didn’t make her stop eating; just made her momentarily pause.

“Sorry,” he said as he licked his lips.

“SHAW!” came the call from the next person to find the woman that everyone seemed to need that day. As soon as Gen asked if Detective Fusco was in the building; and was told he was; she knew Sameen would be at breakfast with him.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said, under her breath and through a mouthful of flapjacks.

“Try _this_!” the youth said, excitedly. She slammed down a small rectangular bar, wrapped in saran wrap.

Fusco couldn’t remember a time when something frightened his friend so much that she stopped eating and pulled back in her seat.

“What…is…that?” asked the rigid epicurean fan.

“Looks good, Kid,” Fusco said because right now, the napkin with syrup stains that Sameen had was looking good to him.

“Try some, Detective Fusco,” Genrika said, taking out another bar and putting it by him.

Shaw jerked her head to her friend that he should try it first. Again, he wasn’t really the best judge at the moment since he was craving his sugar. But, he was more than happy to volunteer. Fusco removed the clear wrapping and shoved the bar in his mouth, taking off a big bite. Shaw watched with rapt attention as she waited to see what he thought.

“Disizgud,” he said and then Shaw remembered that this man would say that about anything when he was on a diet.

“Give me that,” she said, grabbing the bar in front of her. She, too, removed the wrapping and broke off a piece. But she was more wary, and inspected the bar up close. “What are these _weird_ looking things?” she asked suspiciously.

“Almonds,” Gen said and her expression all but read – ‘ _Really_?’

“Those are some weird looking almonds,” Shaw lied and bit into the smaller piece. The number of different expressions that appeared on Shaw’s face as she chewed was more than the actual number of ingredients. “Whomadedis?” she asked.

“Isabelle and I did this morning!” Gen said gleefully. “Do you like it?”

It was tasty, but it wasn’t maple syrup drenched pancakes. “Not bad,” Shaw said and Fusco argued that it was the best thing he tasted in a long time. He meant since Friday night when his rookie partner brought him donuts.

“See?” Shaw said, swallowing and going in for a second bite. “This is what you should be doing with your education instead of stupid dances and robots and God knows what else.”

That innocuous statement about the evening before, reminded Gen what happened. “Oh, hey; thanks for…you know…coming last night.”

“What? She didn’t terrorize the joint?” Fusco laughed and looked over to see if Gen had anymore snacks. She did, and she gave him another one. “Oh, raisins,” he said, smiling. “I like raisins. They’re underrated – as a snack and as a fruit,” he lectured.

Shaw just looked up at him; unable to appreciate that anyone would had given shriveled up grapes that much thought.

“Yeah, so… some of those kids,” Gen said, laughing nervously, “…thought that _you_ were my mother!” she finished and this time, she really laughed and hit her hand on her knee as if to say – ‘how ridiculous was that’! “Can you believe that!” she shook her head.

“If I were your mother, you wouldn’t have gone,” Shaw pointed out.

Gen was a swirl of emotions as she sat there. The idea of having Shaw as her parent seemed like a gossamer fantasy that she couldn’t hold onto to… no matter how hard as she grasped at it. Shaw was busy chewing, trying to decide if she should actually commit to this snack bar. Fusco was chewing, too, but the detective in him was watching the youth as she squirmed in her seat.

“Yeah, that would have been awful,” Gen said, and Fusco noticed how fidgety she got. Her tone belied her body language the astute detective noticed. If he had to bet, he’d say there was nothing more in the world this kid wanted.

“Not bad, Kid,” Shaw finally concluded as she finished her bar. “This isn’t … like…in place of anything, is it?” she asked, worried that this might be intended as a substitute for one of her many breakfasts.

Genrika was off in thought – caught between the reality that Grace and Harold were kind and caring guardians; and the dream that Shaw and Root could ever be her parents. Like Root, the child analyzed any problem that life threw at her by a series of deductions and calculations.

Unlike Root, Gen was still a child.

“You know, I’m fourteen years old!” she shouted at Shaw, as if that had been a question. “I don’t need anyone looking out for me. I grew up taking care of myself,” she said, and now words were getting hot and caught in her throat.

“I know how old…,” Shaw said, thinking she had missed part of the conversation. She looked over at Fusco, who somehow didn’t seem surprised at all at this outburst.

Gen was on the verge of crying and decided _that_ was a fate worse than death at the moment. So, she stood up and pushed her chair back quickly. “I don’t need you following me to dances, Shaw, and embarrassing me and…and…any of that, okay?” she said, jutting out her chin, before storming off.

Shaw was stunned. “What the hell…?” she asked Fusco, looking at him and then back at the youth who was stomping out of the cafeteria. “Did I? Was it this?” the woman asked, holding up the empty wrapper. “I said it was good,” she reminded him.

Fusco had all the evidence he needed. He turned to see the youth storm out of the room before looking back at his bewildered friend. Wiping his mouth with the napkin and throwing it down on the plate of food he barely touched; he wisely concluded - “I think we need Cocoa Puffs in on this one.”

Shaw was so confused that she actually followed her friend upstairs, without so much as a bark.

* * *

“We need your help,” he said to Root as they walked in. But then, he had to stop and say hello to Michael who was sitting in a well-padded highchair; strapped in place. She squealed at the sight of her uncle and mother.  “You love your Uncle Lionel, don’t you?” Fusco said, his voice high and syrupy.

“Look who’s here!” Root said excitedly, and then kissed her wife whom she could tell was confused. “How can I help?”

“The Kid…,” is all Shaw could add to the answer.

“She’s hurting,” Lionel said and Shaw looked at him, like he had two heads.

“Hey, I said it was good,” Sameen said defensively because she felt like someone was saying this was her fault.

“I’m a little confused,” Root admitted.

“Welcome to my world!” her wife huffed and fell into a seat.

“Mommy needs a hug,” Root said, taking Michael out of her seat and handing her to Sameen.

“What Mommy needs are guards armed with tranquilizer guns, but Mommy won’t get them for her,” Shaw explained to the baby who laughed. Michael opened her mouth and leaned forward. The fact that her mother’s face lit up, told her she was on target. “Fusco! She’s kissing me!”

“Okay, here’s what we got, “ he said after smiling at the mother and daughter moment, and sounding very much like a detective. “The Kid sort of wants you two to be her parents.” He sat back, and if he had been reading notes from his little notebook, he would have closed it because that summed it all up.

“What?” Shaw asked because she felt like the two of them weren’t in the same situation. “Look, she gave me some energy bar and I ate it. I even said it was good!”

Root listened carefully and nodded her head. From what she just heard, it wasn’t hard for her to guess that her very intelligent wife was unaware of the emotions that just played out in front of her. Sameen had a one track mind when it came to things like that. On the other hand, Root knew what a talented detective Fusco was and trusted that he picked up on what was going on.

“Because of last night?” Root asked, remembering how people assumed who Shaw was.

“Look, last night I might have roughed up a couple of college kids, but I don’t think she’s upset about that. Is she?” Shaw asked, confused.

“Maybelline,” Fusco called her to break the reverie she was in, “… the Kid wants you to be her mother; her real mother.” He didn’t mince words.

“No, she doesn’t; she wanted me to eat her energy bar,” Shaw scoffed and turned to Root to explain. She rolled her eyes in Fusco’s direction.

Hitting his head up against the thick wall that was his friend; he turned to Root again. “She said some of the kids thought yous two were her parents. And by every indication; I think she was okay with that. Then, she got embarrassed and pounded on your wife, there.”

Root listened and looked at Sameen. “She was unusually rude,” Shaw concurred and went back to playing with her daughter.

Fusco looked at his clueless friend and then back at the woman who he was handing the proverbial baton over to. “You know this is going to take a couple of tries, right?” he felt he should point out.

Root smiled and nodded her head. “I’ll take it from here, Lionel. Thanks.”

Fusco thanked Root; kissed the baby, and shook his head at Shaw, as he gently pushed her head backwards. “I love how she has no idea,” he said softly to Root before leaving.

“Does your girlfriend know that when she puts you back on a diet; the rest of us suffer? Does she?” Shaw asked, certain his odd behavior could be explained by lack of caloric intake.

* * *

Michael squirmed in Sameen’s lap; letting out a grunt to inform her mother she was hungry. Root got ready and Sameen handed her over to her and watched as Michael nursed. Her tiny hand held onto Root’s finger as she fed.

“I could watch this forever,” Shaw said, and meant it. Her hand gently pushed Michael soft locks on her head.  
In that moment, when Root’s heart filled with joy that she was there with her wife and baby; another part of it ached for what she thought Gen was longing for. How awful it must be, she considered, to want something you think you can’t have.  
Sometimes, it seemed to Root, figuring out life was more complicated than figuring out an AI’s programming. To this genius, the latter was a piece of cake. But Root was a deep thinker, and filtering out a response probably needed more time.

Instead, Root tried to express this all in a couple of sentences to Shaw.

“Let me tell you what I have learned,” is how she began. “I learned that we die alone. But if you mean something to someone,” she continued when Michael was finished as she readied her for her nap,” …if you help someone, or love someone,” she said, putting the baby down and coming to sit back next to a rather wide-eyed Shaw, “…if even a single person remembers you, then maybe you never really die. And maybe that’s not the end.”

To say that Sameen felt like they took a sharp right verbal turn was putting it mildly. Root was caught up in figuring out what Gen must feel like; at the same time mixing in her own feelings. It resulted in her feeling selfish for keeping Sameen all to herself - in a world where good people were a rare commodity.

Yeah, Shaw missed _all_ of that.

She watched her wife become more animated the more she talked.

“Have you been…drinking the water around here?” Sameen asked, thinking the contagion that was causing the people in her life to lose it, might be in the coolers.

She had no idea how much a part of the issue she was.

“No, silly,” Root smiled, realizing she just added to Sameen’s confusion. “It’s just…,” and she stopped, because it was always harder to sort things out when she was staring at her wife.

“Hey,” Shaw said, taking Root’s hands now in hers and being the calmer one. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

Root had just laid a great many thoughts out in front of her wife; none of which she quite understood just yet.

But first and foremost, Shaw expected to be the calming force for her agitated wife.

What she _wasn’t_ expecting, is what Root said next.


	45. Coming Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: as the author, I've invited you to believe in a few far out things... like Shaw only having two breakfasts, for example.  
> I can't explain why this issue returned for Gen, except maybe that we never explored it or settled it. I think this does settle it but, you might find it 'wrapped up with a bow' and too neat in its conclusion. As always, you'll let me know.

“What?” Shaw asked because she needed to time to process what her very sane wife just suggested.

Root was up and pacing as she continued to mull over her idea. “No, this could work,” she said, ignoring the string of negatives coming from her wife’s mouth. “It’s selfish of me to want you just to myself; just for me and Michael.”

“No, no, it’s not, Root. In fact, I wish you would want it more so that people couldn’t get at me,” Shaw argued as she reflected on her day so far.

Root’s quick calculating brain had thought through different scenarios, and this one fit the best.

“Root, I don’t know the first thing about being a…,” Shaw attempted to dispute, but Root’s head was now tilted to the side, her lips were pursed, and her eyes were saying something to the contrary.

“We will just have to make it official,” Root said, her hands on her hips because she wasn’t quite sure how one went about that.

Sameen shook her head, fell backwards on the couch where she was sitting and rolled her eyes. She knew that look her wife was wearing – it said – ‘ _Sameen, my perfect idea… has left the station.’_

* * *

Across town, Genrika had just slammed the door to her bedroom. Now, safely separated from any other person, she allowed the tears to flow. She covered her mouth with a pillow as she yelled into it, allowing the hurt and anger to emerge. What scared her the most was losing her connection with Sameen. She was certain being ‘too much trouble’ would definitely cause that. After all; it was the lesson she learned very early in life.

There was a light tap on the door and Grace called out her name.

“I’m okay!” Gen said, because she knew this behavior would startle her caretakers; it was so out of character.

“I made tea,” Grace said, but didn’t open the door.

“I’m…okay,” Gen said in a much calmer, softer voice now.

“May I come in?” Grace asked, respectful of the youth’s privacy.

_Now what?_ If she said no, she’d feel bad. But if she said yes, she’d have to shove all these emotions she just allowed out. She sat up and grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes, happy she wasn’t old enough for makeup because it would have been running down her face. “Sure,” she heard herself say.

The woman, who had been nothing short of angelic to her, stood in the doorway. “Should I put it down on your desk?” she asked.

“Sure, thanks,” Gen said, smiling even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Grace walked in quietly and put the cup down. The girl’s presence over all these months had given Grace something she never thought she’d possess; a motherly instinct. She felt as if she could feel the angst Gen was wrapped up in, even if she wasn’t quite sure what the cause was.

Gen watched the woman and now guilt surged, pushing the anger away. How could she be so ungrateful to Grace and Harold who have been wonderful to her? How could she want anyone else when Grace had been the very epitome of her name?

Grace watched as Gen’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to decide which side of the fence she should be on. Then, the woman who had been so kind to her spoke.

“You know, whatever it is, Gen; we can talk about it,” Grace said softly.

‘ _No-we-can’t,_ ’ is exactly what the teenager thought.

“Did I ever tell you how Harold proposed to me?” Grace segued, giving Gen some space. “He gave me Jane Austen’s book; _Sense and Sensibility_. I opened it up and found the ring inside,” she laughed softly as she sat down in the chair by the desk and offered Gen the tea.

Gen slowly accepted the beverage and sat on the bed near her.

“He went to all that trouble,” Grace shook her head as she recalled the event. “But all I could feel was…annoyed.”

“Didn’t you like the ring?” Gen asked.

“Oh, it was beautiful,” Grace said, holding out her hand.

“Were you happy?” Gen asked.

“Yes, very,” Grace affirmed, “…but, and I never told anyone this, probably because I’m embarrassed, but I was annoyed, too. I was upset with Harold because he had cut a little space in the book to fit the ring,” she said and her complexion reddened quickly.

Gen looked at the woman who was sharing this secret with her and tried to figure out what the reason was, sipping her tea.

“It was as if I cared more about the book. I remember thinking, and this is so awful, but I remember thinking – do I want to marry a man who would damage a Jane Austen book?” Grace reminisced and covered her face with her hands. “I’m telling you this…,”

Grace finally said, “… because here was this wonderful person proposing to me in a very original way and I was annoyed at him.”

“Because of the book?” Gen asked to make sure.

“Because I was scared,” Grace corrected her. “Life can be scary at times and we won’t always know that the best thing to do is. But Harold and I will always want what is best for you, Gen. I guess what I’m saying is; even though we want to give you what we think you want, you might still have other feelings about that.”

Gen looked over at the woman who was doing her best to explain life in a nutshell. She couldn’t possibly say that she wanted Sameen Shaw to be her mother when the woman who had done her best to fill that role, was sitting in front of her.

“Why is life so hard?” Gen blurted out.

“I wish I knew,” Grace said truthfully, “… I do know it’s balanced off best by having people around you who care about you. In whatever capacity you need them in, okay?”

The woman took the cup of tea and put it on the desk; then she turned back to hold Gen’s hands.

“We will always be here for you, Gen,” Grace said. That spoken promise was the key that unlocked the floodgates of emotion in the child and she burst into tears, burying her head in Grace’s lap. “What is it?”

But Gen didn’t know how to put the answer into words. Emotions pushed at her – most of them in conflict with each other. But something was happening that Gen could not explain. Laying there, her head in Grace’s lap as the woman’s hand stroked her head, a feeling came over her. It was new; it wasn’t all that familiar to Gen although she knew this feeling was there - in her head. She knew Harold and Grace cared for her very much; but in this moment; she felt – singularly loved. Of course, she knew Root and Shaw loved her, too. But this felt different – warmer somehow.

Gen picked her head up – put her chin out and decided to leap.

“People at school thought Shaw was my mother,” Gen reported.

Grace got it right away. “Oh; and did you like that?” she asked, astutely.

“Yes,” Gen said and waited to see the effect that truth would have.

Knowing Sameen as a strong and protective woman, Grace understood why Gen would want that. “I can see why you would,” Grace said. “Shaw’s a terrific mom.”

While her responses were admirable; they did little to ease the pain Gen felt. Just because Grace was being so kind, didn’t mean the answer was any clearer for the youth. Not having grown up with a stable home life, a solid family unit, or people who truly cared; made this very hard for Gen. Her brain knew that Harold and Grace afforded her all those things. But Shaw was the living embodiment of other things she desperately sought. Namely, safety and strength.

The doorbell ringing wildly interrupted their heart to heart talk.

* * *

Gen ran out first, with Grace close behind her, as she ran to the door. She had a feeling only two people in the world would make an entrance like that.

“I _knew_ it was you!” she said excitedly when Root and Shaw walked in.

“I didn’t know it was going to be us,” Shaw blurted out, walking in behind the decision maker. It wasn’t that Sameen couldn’t convince Root she was wrong; she couldn’t convince herself Root didn’t know the best thing to do.  
Shaw simply trusted Root that much.

“Hello, Michael!” Grace all but squealed and asked if she could hold the baby. “How nice to see you.” Only Grace could say those words sincerely when uninvited guests barged in on a heartfelt conversation she was having.

“Yes, well, Sameen and I have come up with an idea that we wanted to run by you guys,” Root said and asked if Harold was there. “Well, you’ll tell him later,” she said when Grace said Harold was at a one day conference. “It will give you time to think about this.”

Gen frowned as she looked at Root, apparently unable to decipher what the excitement meant.

“First,” Gen said, afraid of what was coming, but wanting to put things in order. “… I want to say I’m sorry for yelling before.” She said it apologetically, but she was still standing with her chin out. A move, that told Root she was expecting Shaw to be upset with her.

“I’m all about feelings, now, Kid,” Shaw assured her, and rolled her eyes that she was saying those words. “So, no hard feelings, okay?”

“What is this about?” Grace asked as she talked to Michael.

“Well, Shaw and I had this wonderful idea. After being with Gen last night, we decided we’d love to be more involved,” Root said and quickly added; “…if that’s okay with Gen and you guys.”

Grace immediately looked at Gen to answer that. “Involved how?”

“I think Shaw should…,” Root all but squealed at what a great idea this was, “…become your Godmother.”

“Godmother?” both Gen and Grace asked.

“Yes, officially, I mean,” Root said. “Now, I know, typically this is someone who is responsible in a religious capacity, but I think we can all agree that we could expand upon that.”

“How?” Gen asked.

“Well, it’s a well-known literary fact that Godmother’s _watch out_ for their godchildren,” Root said, her eyebrows raised and indicating this was code for bodyguard.

“Yeah, because there were several asses I’d like to have kicked last night,” Shaw added in her own words and then quickly looked at Grace and smiled apologetically.

“How…is this different?” the prodigy asked.

“It makes me an official pain in the butt,” Shaw poetically stated. “I get to help you, you know, pick out friends; choose boyfriends; but not shopping. That’s not in my job description,” she wanted to point out.

“It sounds like you’d be butting in a lot,” Gen said, crossing her arms.

“Well, yeah,” Shaw said, looking at Root. “It’s what godmothers do.”

Grace was impressed that Root and Shaw would come up with this possible solution; but she looked at Gen to see if this idea fell short of what she really wanted.

“And can I call you? Anytime?” Gen wanted to know.

“Well, not like three in the morning,” Shaw balked, but Root cleared her throat because that’s exactly the time she should call Shaw if she needed her. “I mean, sure, Kid. Three’s fine.”

Gen was taking her time thinking this over. In her calmer moments, she realized what was going on and that her longing had more to do with her history than just Sameen. And in talking with Grace, she realized she had the mother she wanted and needed. In one sense, what she wanted Sameen for was more.

“There would have to be some ground rules,” Gen said and Grace bit her lip because she admired her charge’s tenacity.

“Wait, you want to call me at three in the AM; but I have to have ground rules?” Shaw asked annoyed.

“If I tell you about a boy, you can’t go to this house and spy on him,” Gen threw out there to see if Shaw would bite.

“No deal,” she bit hard.

“No following me on dates,” Gen stated.

“No deal,” Shaw said and looked at Root. “Do you hear this?”

“And if I decided to get married, he doesn’t have to ask your permission,” Gen made up now, messing with Sameen.

“Ask me? He’ll have to get _through_ me,” Shaw barked, biting on every ridiculous thing Gen threw out to her.

“And I can elope,” Gen said, but broke out into a fit of giggles and immediately started to run when Shaw started after her.

“Come here, you!” Shaw yelled, trying to catch the youth who was screaming and laughing.

“Godmother?” Grace said to Root as they listened to Gen’s mood brighten instantly.

“BFF didn’t sound official enough,” Root smiled, understanding what Gen needed.

“You know she’s going to call Shaw at three AM to test this out, right?” Grace said because she knew the girl well.

“I know,” Root said, wondering how in the world to prepare Shaw for that.

The women looked over as Shaw finally caught the girl and easily grabbed her from behind in her arms. “Say it,” Shaw demanded as she teased the girl. “If you don’t’ say it, I’m not letting you go,” Shaw threatened.

And then it happened; all of Gen’s feelings were calmed and her fear of losing Shaw was assuaged. She basked in the teasing and the knowledge that Shaw would be forever a part of her life as her Godmother. And as most kids would do when they need to be rescued; even if it’s from someone they adore; Gen called out –

“MOM! Help me!” she giggled, as she tried in vain to get away.

“Oh!” Grace said because that word had never been used before. “She…,’ she said to Root, her eyes filling immediately with tears. “Did she…?” she asked, wondering if it were a slip.

“MOM! Help!” Gen repeated as Shaw tickled her mercilessly.


	46. Respecting Boundaries

Grace handed Michael back to Root as she hastened to Gen’s call; proving that her maternal instincts were kicking in because truly, there was no way to save the child unless Shaw allowed it. Grace was no match for Shaw, and they all knew it. But, more importantly, Shaw was aware of what was happening and easily gave up the fight when Grace pulled at Gen.

“Save me!” came the exaggerated plea and Grace was there to answer it.

* * *

“Watch!” Shaw said, taking something out of her pocket and shoving in her mouth. Two compact cotton rolls were placed in her lower jaw on purpose. She turned back to Gen who was sitting with Grace, in anticipation. Then, in her best Brando impersonation, Shaw quoted him from the “Godfather” movie. “I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse,” she uttered and in spite of how corny it was, Gen broke out in laughter.

“That’s funny,” Gen laughed, forgetting she was required by age to scoff at adults’ jokes.

“You think I’m kidding,” Shaw said, taking the prop out of her mouth and shoving them back into her pocket. “I’m not a Disney Godmother, you know.”

In spite of her warning, the newly anointed Goddaughter was not intimidated. “No wand, Shaw?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure this comes with some truly annoying privileges,” Shaw said, because she had run down a list of them with Root. _The first thing Root had to do was to clear up the misnomer that Shaw would be on call to collect any teeth that fell out. “She’s way past that and that’s the Tooth Fairy,” she pointed out._

“But I get to call you at three in the morning,” Gen said, sitting next to the woman who was still lightheaded from what she had just heard.

“That’s not…,” Shaw said, but Root already indicated it was okay. Shaw shut up, but glared just in case.

“I think we should have a dinner soon; to celebrate the new designation,” Grace suggested and everyone was on board for that.

Michael could tell from the laughter in the room that things were going well. She leaned over and pressed her mouth on Root’s cheek – because she sensed whose brilliant idea this all was.

“Thank you,” Root said back to the baby.

Gen’s mood had done a complete turnabout. She was asking Root about a course she was taking and rushing to her room to get the paper she had written.

“This is a really nice thing,” Grace said to Shaw as they sat with Michael in their living room.

Sameen smiled and looked in the direction her wife had gone. “Root gets things,” she said, her voice filled with admiration. “And she would never…,” Shaw said, looking back at the woman who cherished being Genrika’s guardian all this time.

“I know,” Grace said because she trusted Root.

* * *

When Janine finally returned to her office, she was a little surprised to see the overwhelming number of floral arrangements in her area. When she saw that they spilled over to her boss’ room; she got perturbed.

Zoe didn’t know it yet, but she was crossing an invisible line. She was going to find out when she arrived that afternoon and crossed the office threshold.

“This is all…very nice…,” Janine said and appeared more uptight. “But it’s too much,” she said as she waved her hand.

“I had a really nice weekend,” Zoe said, her eyebrows raised for emphasis. “A _really_ nice weekend.”

“I did, too, but you can’t …. It’s in Shaw’s office!” she explained as if that should convince the woman. “I mean, it’s really nice…”

The Fixer took one look around and sized up the situation. They may have had a blissful three days away, but they were back in Janine’s professional world – and there were different forces at work here.  
“So, you don’t want me to…express my feelings… here,” Zoe said slowly as she put her theory to the test.

“It was really thoughtful,” said the woman afraid of hurting Zoe’s feelings; “…just…” she said and looked back at Shaw’s office as if she were there.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Zoe said because the woman oozed maturity. “We’re navigating our boundaries, and I crossed one without realizing it. Can you forgive me?” she asked.

Janine looked over at the lips that just uttered that request in a honey laden tone. Zoe’s voice wasn’t just soft; it was also husky, and Janine moved in closer. What a tough spot to be caught in – it was like being between the hard rock of her job duties … and the most delicious, soft lips that were capable of incredible things.

“YES!” Janine answered loudly, but of course, it was in response to the question in her entire body and not so much in response to her girlfriend’s question.

“O…kay, then,” Zoe smiled and leaned in closer. “Is it okay to…?” she was asking when Janine couldn’t hold back anymore and lunged to those pink glossed lips. Zoe braced herself and took the full impact, never wavering off her three inch stilettos. “Let’s have dinner,” Zoe seductively suggested and her gentle touch of Janine’s stand of hair sent shivers down her spine.

“Yes,” Janine agreed, fully aware that she was giving in to the spell that Zoe cast.

Zoe said she’d text Janine the details later and kissed her one more time before exiting; leaving her perfume and her aura behind.

* * *

If they actually made headgear to protect people’s craniums when falling this hard in love; Janine would have been on Amazon ordering it. She quickly calculated that she would need several minutes to regain composure after any visit from her lover.

Fortunately for her, Zoe was postponing her boss’ arrival at the moment.

Buoyed by how well their encounter with Gen went, Shaw returned to work when Root took Michael home.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Shaw said upon seeing the Fixer approaching. She needed more time to bury what she had read in that note.

“You okay, Shaw?” Zoe asked because, in spite of Shaw’s turning around to flee; there was nowhere to go.

“Yeah, good,” Shaw said, not looking the woman in the eye and shoving her hands in her pockets. She tried to remember her CIA training when operatives had to instantly forget something awful that they witnessed. “Black wall; black wall,” Shaw repeated.

Zoe found the agitated behavior surprising and looked up at the ceiling, where Shaw’s eyes were, to see what she could possibly be looking at. The woman and Sameen shared a mutual respect that often was expressed in affectionate verbal pokes and jabs.

“What are you doing there, Shaw?” Zoe asked, crossing her arms that held her expensive clutch bag in front of her chest.

“Me? What are _you_ doing? Do you have an office? Why is everyone I know working out of BEAR?” Shaw wondered out loud. She made the slightest move to get past her friend, but Zoe wasn’t giving in until she knew what was going on.

“I was here apologizing for my over exuberance,” Zoe said and looked back at the office she just left. “I sent one too many flowers,” she said, her lower lip pulled down to express her remorse.

That only reminded Shaw of what she read and her immediate response was to shut her eyes quickly. “Yeah, do me a favor, would you?”

“Sure, Shaw, anything,” Zoe agreed only because she was still studying the unusual behavior in the woman who typically was steady as a rock.

Shaw drew a deep breath and stared at the woman finally. “Don’t write details on your cards that some other people might, through no fault of their own, happen to read; totally by accident.”

It took Zoe a second, but she finally pieced together that long string of directives. “Ooh,” she said, looking at Sameen.

Certain the woman would see the errors of her ways and beg forgiveness, Shaw nodded her head in confirmation.

It was so rare for the Fixer to actually have Sameen caught, that it was too tempting to let go. “So, you happened to see…through no fault of your own…,” Zoe said belaboring the point.

“Exactly!” Shaw said to cut to the chase.

But Zoe wasn’t done.

“And now you’d like me to…,” she continued at an achingly slow pace. But before Shaw could affirm what she said again – Zoe slipped in: “… teach you a few things?”

“YES!” Shaw prematurely said, wanting this conversation to be over. But it wasn’t. The Cheshire like grin on the older woman’s face told Sameen she had just been bested. “Wait! What? You think I? You? “ Shaw said, anger now replacing her embarrassment, allowing her to stare Zoe Morgan in the eye.

“I mean, I could give some pointers,” Zoe ran with it.

“Not on your best day, Morgan!” Shaw said.

“Anything for a friend, Shaw,” Zoe said, because it was so unusual that she could actually rattle Sameen’s cage.

* * *

Shaw stood there in the hallway as her friend disappeared. Shaw growled lowly as she went into her office. Of course, this meant, she was passing through Janine’s, and the first thing she noticed was the absence of all the flowers. “Tell your girlfriend…,” Shaw was barking, but they were all gone. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry about that; it was a bit much,” Janine said, standing up and coming out of her reverie that Zoe left her in.

“Oh, well, it’s …okay,” Shaw said, since all traces of the floral arrangements were gone.

“Zoe and I are navigating boundaries,” Janine announced as if it were an agenda item.

“Yeah? Well, good luck with reigning her in,” Shaw said because the woman had crossed a line and annoyed her.

And although Shaw didn’t mean anything other than what she said, the smile on Janine’s face meant she was taking it quite another way. “Oh, _trust_ me,” she smiled as she considered it; “…I can do it.”

Shaw stopped and stared at the woman who was again lost in thought. “Why she’s not in the hallway with a net, I’ll never know,” Shaw lamented of her good friend, Doctor Campbell.


	47. What a Coincidence

Joss Carter never went with the crowd; she always did things her own way. So, when everyone at the station – and we mean practically everyone – complained that a new rookie was ‘ _way out there’_ for anyone’s taste; Joss made it her business to befriend him. She had her own share of people misjudging her in her career – cross that out – in her life. Turned out, the guy was a dedicated cop with good skills – and he believed in the balance of life. He was the one who introduced Carter to yoga and meditation. She kept it under wraps in the beginning, but when Joss could see the benefits; she tried to recruit Fusco. After he stopped laughing, he flat out refused. “Not that I don’t believe there could be some upside to relaxing, Carter; but I’d never live it down with Shaw!”

Carter decided then and there; the fastest way to Fusco’s brain was not a direct route. It would have to go from her – to Reese – to Shaw – to Fusco. It was circuitous to say the least; but he was worth it. She didn’t like to say it too often; but Fusco was the best damn partner it had ever been her privilege to work with.

At first, it seemed odd that John Reese – a man who barely registered on the heart monitor most days – would need a calming tool. But Carter knew, calm rivers can have a terrible undertow. She only had to spend a few evenings with him to know, Reese’s demons called on him at night.

Reese didn’t really agree to go, as much as he didn’t get his argument out in time. By the end of his long, spaced out sentence, Joss had them at an Adidas store, buying clothes for their first class.

“It’s a new age, John,” Carter said to him. “We’re redefining masculinity to include allowing men to explore themselves.” The look on Reese’s face clearly indicated he had no idea what she was talking about.

“I don’t know, Carter,” he said because they were in public.

“Tell you what,” Joss decided to bargain. “Taylor won’t be home tonight. If you try this one class; I’ll make my grandmother’s recipe for homemade chicken and dumplings,” she offered. And because she knew food only got John in the door; she sweetened the deal by reminding him; “And… you know what making homemade chicken and dumplings does to me, John,” in a soft and breathy tone.

John’s baby blues looked at Carter’s twinkling brown eyes. The smallest smile crept across his lips and Joss knew she had him. Cooking in the kitchen was an aphrodisiac for Joss Carter and Reese knew it.

“I’m in,” he said and picked out clothes.

Unlike Fusco, Reese could weather any storm of ridicule because he just focused on what followed every class.

It was hard to tell the difference in Reese at work; although _some_ people reported in hushed tones that they actually had seen John laugh at a joke. “I saw him stop and look at someone’s baby’s picture!” another person shared and was immediately doubted. “I swear!”

* * *

The rumors were flying; but they never reached Sameen. They did, however, catch the attention of someone who was verbally gifted. The same person, who at this very moment, had agreed to the condition her girlfriend set forth for their makeup. Namely, not to say every single solitary thing that came into her head. It had been several hours and Ayala was drawing blood from biting on her inside cheek.

When Janine left that night, it left Sameen alone in her office. Her sister burst through the doorway– as if she had just tunneled her way there. “Oh, thank God!” Ayala said, in a hushed tone and grabbed her sister to sit back down.

“I know we share the same God, but I’m pretty sure she’s on my side today,” Shaw quipped about the Superior Being.

“We should talk about religion sometime,” Ayala said, finally getting out some words that expressed a thought.

“Sure, right after nuclear weapons; pros and cons, and infectious diseases; what are they good for?” Sameen said and tried to stand up.

“That’s an odd order, but okay,” Ayala said, thinking she could manage a conversation about those topics.

“I was being sarcastic,” Sameen pointed out.

“Oh, yes; sarcasm, you do that a lot,” Ayala noted.

“And that concludes this titillating conversation,” Shaw rolled her eyes and stood up again.

“No! Please!” Ayala said, grabbing her only chance of verbal release before she had to return to her girlfriend.

Sameen was forced back into her seat. Her eyes looked down at the grip her sister held her arm in. “I’ve broken stronger bones for less,” she said, but her sister swatted her threat away with a big smile.

“I need something,” her sister whispered.

“Yes, I know!” Shaw didn’t miss a second in agreeing. “And her office is straight down this hallway. How you haven’t already been summoned there, is beyond me.”

“What?” Ayala asked, confused.

“You need a therapist, and we have one; a very good one, who seems to be unquestionably absent from hall monitoring lately,” Shaw noted.

“No, I need to…,” Ayala said like a druggie begging for a score, “…talk!”

“ _You_ …need…to… _talk_?” Shaw asked incredulously.

“Yes!” Ayala confirmed and her voice was still low.

“What do you think you do when you go to a therapist? You talk!” Shaw said with a ‘voila’ tone to her voice.

“No!” her sister insisted. “I need to talk to you!”

“What is up with this? Don’t you have a mother? A girlfriend?” Shaw asked and then noticed the look on her sister’s face. “This has to do…with Martine?” Shaw guessed correctly. One look at the guilt on her sibling’s face told her she was right. “What did she do? She took you back…,” she pieced together. “Oh my God, you read her your poem and she’s forbidden to ever speak again?” There was utter delight in Sameen’s voice.

“No!” Ayala answered. “Not exactly,” she added, making Shaw fall back in her chair laughing.

“Not exactly?” Shaw asked, knowing she was certainly on the right track.

“I…may have agreed to one tiny stipulation,” Ayala admitted.

“You’re taking a vow of silence?” Shaw asked with great hope.

“No! Well, it feels like it,” her sister admitted. “We were talking about how I can be…,” and she hesitated to say the word, which only gave Sameen time to fill in the blank.

“Obnoxious; rude; ungrateful, annoying, immature, impulsive…,” Shaw ranted.

“Yes, that one,” Ayala pointed at her sister.

“Which one? Obnoxious, rude…”

“Impulsive. I’m impulsive,” Ayala said, sticking out her chin at admitting that.

“Really? That’s the one she picked?” Shaw asked, frowning.

“Be serious, Sameen,” Ayala chastised her older sister. “This is serious. I really care about Martine and she allowed me to apologize for buddying up with your buddy, by the way,” Ayala threw out there.

“And she wants you _not_ to be impulsive?” Shaw said, knowing that would never work.

“No, actually, she said there are some times when she likes that very much about me,” Ayala shared truthfully.

“Really?” Shaw just had to ask.

“She enjoys it very much in the bedroom, smarty pants,” Ayala corrected her sister.

“Okay, see? I don’t need to hear this. Not today. I have to go,” Shaw said, thinking people didn’t keep their private lives private enough.

Ayala wasn’t letting go of the only audience she had though and pulled at her sister to take her seat again.

“Does your mother know you’re out annoying the general public and are in dangerous situation right now?” Shaw threatened.

“Mommy won’t understand,” Ayala said because she knew her mother would think it was a fair compromise.

“And you thought the next choice was _me_? Because I’m so understanding?” Shaw pointed out.

“No, because you’ll do that _thing_ you do now,” Ayala said cryptically.

“Reach for my gun?” Shaw asked.

“No, you’ll balk and carry on, like you don’t want to help,” the Middle Eastern accented voice said. “But, just when you’re not going to do something… you’ll get this far away look in your eye and it will mean you’re thinking - _what would Root do_ – and then you’ll do that thing and be nicer, calmer,” came the long string of words.

“I will pay Martine to come and get you,” Shaw said, lost in the verbal outpouring.

“She is coming to get me; we’re going out to dinner, but…,” Ayala said, looking around.

“You’re going to try and be quiet?” Shaw asked - her assumption right on target.

“Yes,” Ayala said, casting her glance anywhere but directly at her sister.

Shaw stared at her sibling and saw a wonderful opportunity. “A hundred bucks says you crash before the salads are done.”

“No way!” Ayala said, upset that her sister would doubt her abilities. “You have no faith in me, that I can’t stop talking because you think I always talk about everything, all the time!” the woman went on a verbal rant.

“Exactly,” Shaw said, smiling smugly.

“I see your one hundred and raise you one hundred,” Ayala said, her feelings getting the better of her.

“I can’t wait to play poker with you,” Shaw said.

“You’ll see,” Ayala replied - her word bank finally at an acceptable level. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my money and your apology.”

Shaw watched as her sister left, before texting her friend Fusco. ‘ _I need you to go to dinner tonight_ ,’ she said to her buddy.

‘ _I was just sitting here hoping someone would send me on a wild goose chase tonight. Thanks, Shaw_ ,’ he responded.

‘ _Sarcasm does not become you. Just take your girlfriend out to dinner, why don’t you, and let me know if my sister is actually normal_ ,’ Shaw texted back.

“I swear, the things I do for that woman,” Fusco said, texting Iris and asking if she’d like to go to dinner at the exact location Ayala and Martine were meeting later.

Shaw went home feeling a little like she had saved the world. BEAR’s world, anyway.

* * *

“There are my girls,” she said, when she arrived home and saw Michael in her pajamas. She kissed Root and nuzzled into Michael’s stomach; an action that made the baby laugh. “God, I love how good she smells,” Shaw admitted.

“I missed you,” Root said, going in for another kiss.

“Oh, Root, I missed you,” Shaw said as they walked into the kitchen. “I think we need a new policy at work.”

“Really?” Root asked because she always treated her wife’s requests seriously.

“Yes; starting tomorrow, I think there should be a … no telling anyone about your personal life…policy,” Shaw said and stopped short when she walked into the room. There was something different and it was immediately noticeable to her.

Root watched Shaw’s expression harden as she tried to figure it out. “Where is…?” she was about to ask when the woman appeared. “Oh, thank God,” Shaw said, unaware that everyone could hear her.

“Were…you _afraid_ Isabelle wasn’t here?” Root asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, I just thought…what would we do…for… about dinner,” Shaw uttered.

“And at any time, Mrs. Shaw-Groves, were you concerned that _I_ would cook for you?” Root asked, pushing her hip into Shaw’s.

“No! Absolutely not! I love... when…like when you made…no, that’s not what I was thinking,” Shaw blurted out poorly.

Bear groaned and shook his head; Shadow covered her eyes with her paws. It was that bad.

Root looked over at Isabelle, who was grimacing at how poorly a performance that was. “It’s just been such a long day,” Shaw tried to explain.

“Aha,” Root said, not in the least threatened by her wife’s lack of faith in her culinary skills.

“And I want to be able to talk to you…and we can’t do that, if you’re, you know, cooking and all,” Shaw said, almost convincingly. Her bottom lip was jutting out in such a pathetic manner that Root couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it.

“So, maybe I could make you dinner tomorrow night,” Root suggested.

It was harder to say who gasped louder; Isabelle or Shaw, but only one of them agreed it was the greatest idea since Ben and Jerry made ice cream.

And it wasn’t Isabelle.

Then, Shaw remembered something.

“No! Damn!” Shaw said, snapping her fingers. “We have dinner at Harold and Grace’s tomorrow night. Damn!” Shaw said, one too many times.

“Oh, that’s right,” Root said and updated Isabelle that they wouldn’t be home for dinner.

“But, if you’re here, you can – you know – still make something,” Shaw encouraged the woman.

“Actually…,” Root remembered, “I meant to ask you if you’d like to do a private dinner tomorrow night.”

Now, Isabelle was asking Root what she meant, but not in the same tone as her wife. In fact, Shaw’s inquiry sounded more like; “Are you crazy?”

Root wasn’t at all surprised by Sameen’s response. “It’s just for one night and we won’t be here. Someone needs a chef, a good chef and asked if you would be interested.”

The symbiotic relationship between foodie and chef ran deep with these two. “I could…,” Isabelle said and wanted to make sure everyone was okay with that.

“What next, Root? Someone wants to see what it’s like to have dogs or a kid?” Shaw lost it. Bear and Shadow immediately howled they were not on board for that. “Sure, call Root and Shaw and see if they’ll lend you that Picasso in their living room!” she ranted.

“Actually, that is on loan to the Guggenheim Museum,” Root pointed out. “And I don’t think that’s quite the same thing,” Root said slowly, but she was the only one convinced it wasn’t.

“I could certainly prepare something and serve it, and be back here in time for when you return,” Isabelle thought through.

“Oh,” Shaw said, trying to accept this. “I guess that could work.”

“And if you’re not back in time, I could make you something,” Root brought it full circle.

* * *

Shaw ate like it was her last meal; which her brain sort of told her it was. There were two things her brilliant wife could not do; cook and wink. As many times as Shaw instructed her on the art of briefly closing her eye as a gesture; Root still used her entire face to do so. Shaw had come to find the lack of ability as adorable and endearing. Her lack of cooking skills was neither of those things.

Dinner was done and Michael was already asleep. The couple sat in bed; Root on her computer, Shaw looking for a text from Fusco. “I give him one simple thing to do,” she complained when there was no text.

Then, she turned her attention back to her wife. “I’m glad I’m with you,” Shaw said, looking over at Root; who immediately put the laptop down.

“Are you?” Root smiled.

“You’re so… sane,” Shaw explained.

“I’ll take it,” Root teased.

Everyone else was still having dinner; but Root and Shaw were snuggled closely in bed. “You just get me,” Shaw added, as further proof.

“I do get you,” Root affirmed. “I’d like to get you more often.”

“Oh, really? What would you do with me?” Shaw asked, laughing as Root straddled her body in one fell swoop.

“What I _wouldn’t do_ with you is a much shorter list,” Root said seductively as her hands traversed Sameen’s body.

Then, Root did that thing that Sameen had worked so hard with her to be able to do. She winked. It was still with an exaggerated movement forward of her head as she focused and squeezed one eye, but it was the most adorable thing Shaw had ever seen.

“I am so lucky,” Shaw said, because being right there with Root was the best feeling in the world.

* * *

Fusco never did text her that night. He had asked Iris if she wanted to go to dinner and she accepted. When they arrived and discovered by sheer coincidence – they were in the same place as Martine and Ayala – she started to suspect his reaction.

“I know that look,” Iris smiled over their entrees.

“What look?” Fusco asked, as he quickly glanced in the direction of the other couple.

“That look that says you’re not really here,” Iris said astutely.

Fusco put his fork down. “You’re right,” he confessed. “Shaw asked me to come here tonight, to keep an eye on her sister.”

“Is everything okay?” Iris asked concerned.

“It will be… until tomorrow,” he smiled awkwardly and then went back to focusing on his own date.

* * *

When Janine read the address of the place Zoe wanted to have dinner, she smiled. It was the one of their favorite spots. It was quiet, romantic and out of the way.

Which is why she was so surprised to run into her other BEAR coworkers.


	48. Separate Checks

Lionel and Iris sat across from one another at the small round table with the white tablecloth. He smiled over at Janine and Zoe when they walked in and waved a small wave to Martine and Ayala. He seemed to be in a very good mood, Iris thought.

“So, Sameen asked you to come here?” Iris asked as she took a small forkful of salad. The small candle in between them flickered and shone in her light blue eyes.

“Yes, oh – waiter!” Fusco said. When the man approached, it asked if he would send a bottle of their finest wine to the other two tables. When the man said he would, Fusco took a big forkful of salad and grinned. “What?” he asked his girlfriend, who had folded her hands and had her chin resting on them.

“So, Sameen asked you to come here and keep an eye on her sister and assistant, and send them wine?” Iris asked.

“The wine was my idea,” Fusco laughed. “Shaw’s footing this bill. I’m on overtime. She didn’t say anything about the Tasmanian Devil over there.”

Iris shook her head. “So, if Sameen hadn’t asked you to watch her sister, we would be having spaghetti at home?”

Fusco stopped chewing. _Damn, his girlfriend was smart at putting things together._ “Well, no, I mean, yeah, but…it would have been that thin spaghetti that you like,” he tried.

Iris had accepted that when she agreed to date Fusco; the detective; she was also dating Fusco; Sameen Shaw’s on-call BFF.

“What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?”

“I’m hoping to enjoy a really expensive meal with you; and keep an eye on Chatty Kathy over there. Apparently, she bet her sister that she could keep quiet. HA! Have you met that woman? She’d discuss the font on the menu if she ran out of things to say,” Fusco assessed.

“And Janine?” Iris whispered.

“Don’t know about her. Coincidence that they’re here, I guess,” Fusco said, already planning his speech how they would have to order dessert later because this was a soup-to-nuts kind of dinner. He was really enjoying his meal, and from all accounts, Shaw’s sister was keeping her promise.

* * *

Ayala picked this restaurant because the food was excellent. She figured her tongue would be so satisfied with scrumptious calories; it wouldn’t be tempted to engage in heavy conversations. But Martine was perceptive and heard the low grunting sound when Ayala went to say something and stopped herself.

“How…was…your day?” Ayala said, haltingly - as if measuring her every word.

“I’m going to say two things,” Martine said, putting her folk down and folding her hands.

Ayala didn’t like the sound of that, and was about to protest that she was desperately trying when Martine put her finger up to stop her. “First, I think maybe you misunderstood me. I just want you to think about… ‘ _us_ ’…,” she said, waving her finger between them, “…and how I will respect your decisions.”

And to prove that she was truly listening, and bracing herself for the other shoe to fall; Ayala asked: “And, number two?”

Martine looked over with a serious look on her face. “You’re very cute when you’re trying not to talk; do you know that?” A grin broke out on Martine’s face because she couldn’t help but smile at the girlfriend’s attempts to stifle herself.

“Really?” Ayala let out as if she had been holding her breath. “Oh, God, I have been trying so hard because I know sometimes I can run off at the mouth and not let you get a word it and I told Shaw that I could do it; and between you and me; I think that’s why Fusco and his girlfriend are here,” Ayala blurted out.

Martine listened carefully. “I hope you didn’t bet her a lot of money,” she remarked and Ayala frowned, trying to act insulted. In reality, she was grateful that her girlfriend knew her so well.

* * *

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Zoe asked, even though she picked this place because it was usually quiet and romantic.

“No, I’m fine,” Janine said, even though she was quite curious about the other guests in the place. “Funny, that we would all pick this place,” she noted.

“Well, tomorrow night, I’d like to invite you to dinner at my place,” Zoe prematurely announced.

“Your place?” Janine asked.

“Yes, I’ve made plans to have someone cook us dinner,” Zoe assured her.

“Oh, that’s so nice,” Janine said, thinking Zoe was so thoughtful.

Janine didn’t know it at the moment, but this was a huge move for Zoe. The woman never brought anyone to her home; mostly because it was her place of business, too.

“Have you been here before?” Janine asked as she perused the menu and was going to ask what was good.

“It’s been ages,” Zoe said as she looked down at the choices.

Just then, the bottles of wine delivered to each table.

“That was really nice!” Janine said and waved across the room at Fusco. “He’s such a nice guy.”

“One in a million,” Zoe agreed.

Martine smiled over to thank Fusco, but Ayala waved wildly at him. “THANK YOU!” she mouthed.

* * *

The three couples were enjoying their entrees. Iris was pleased that Lionel seemed more focused on them than his undercover duty.

“Here’s the way I sees it,” Fusco was eloquently saying, “… you got your good people and your not so good people. Those are the ones I deal with every day. So, when you’re fortunate enough to meet good ones, you keep them around. Shaw’s one of them. I mean, sure, she’s rough around the edges and can be a pain in the ass; but deep down, she’s got a heart of gold,” he explained.

Iris simply nodded, walking that fine line of therapist to her boyfriend’s best friend and girlfriend who had to endure hearing about his best friend.

* * *

The wine had done little in helping Ayala slow down and now she was expounding on how she thought Martine and she should go on vacation. Martine slowly put her hand on Ayala’s and gently squeezed.

“You want, I should not talk about vacation?” Ayala asked.

“I want you to come up for air,” Martine said quietly. It took her girlfriend a second, but she got it. And then she blushed and laughed. “I can think of ways to get you to slow down, but I can’t kiss you all day at work,” Martine confessed.

Ayala marveled at how different her lover was; slow, quiet, steady. “Maybe…there are other ways…,” Ayala smiled devilishly as she ran her foot up Martine’s leg at the table. “… that you could think of.”

There was a part of Martine that loved that she never quite knew how to prepare for this woman who sat across from her. One of her specialties in the armed forces was being able to quickly assess and handle any situation that came up in the war zone. But with Ayala, Martine always felt like the circumstances constantly changed – and she felt extremely challenged – and turned on – by that.

Even if it could be incredibly frustrating at times.

* * *

Janine couldn’t believe that the euphoric feeling from the weekend was still lasting. Zoe Morgan had an incredible reputation and Janine still couldn’t believe she was sitting across from her. The woman was so evasive, that reporters staked their careers on being able to get an interview with her. They never did. For a woman who was known in all the right circles, no one really knew Zoe.

Except the man sitting at the bar.

* * *

_Zoe Morgan played the long game. She would set things in motion, making the tiniest move and wait for it to ripple out months later. One of those things she set in motion was the man at the bar. One of her best clients, who paid her lucratively, wanted information from him. But he was smart and skittish and the only way to get to him was to act like she had no idea who he was. For weeks, she showed up at parties and events where he was, and for weeks, she ignored him. Then, finally, he noticed her. She knew just because he took the bait, didn’t mean she could reel him in, and it was a few more days of saying hello and leaving before he stopped her from exiting one night._

_“We have to stop meeting like this,” he said and started to soften._

_And with that, Zoe Morgan was in._

_Within two hours that night, Zoe had worked her plan to perfection. She talked a good game, until he invited her to his townhouse. Then, she slipped something into his drink and while he drifted off to dreamland, Zoe searched his apartment and found what she was looking for. She purposely left her undergarments there, to make it look like they had been making love when he passed out. She left with the incriminating photos he was going to use to blackmail her client._  
_When he came to, he found her expensive underwear and two empty glasses – then when checked, were drug free. The note she left said – call me – but it wasn’t even in her handwriting. She had them preprinted._

_Zoe may have disappeared like a ghost, but when the man discovered he had been robbed a couple of weeks later, he decided Zoe may not have appeared to be who she was. He had no recourse, of course, except – revenge._

* * *

Running into her in that restaurant now, he texted her as he ordered a drink at the bar. Except, Zoe’s phone was off. Later, a note was sent to her table, instructing her to turn it on. Janine noticed the expression change immediately.

“I have to take this,” Zoe smiled and looked at the text.

He simply said that he wanted to talk to Zoe and if she didn’t agree, he’d have someone take care of her girlfriend.

Part of Zoe’s job required that she convince a lot of people that she had nothing to do with whatever happened to them. She was very good at it. So, she decided she’d excuse herself and tell this man he was all wrong.

“I have a business associate,” she said, wiping her mouth, “…who I need to speak to. Would you excuse me for just a minute?”

“Sure,” Janine said, but was aware of how business like Zoe suddenly became. She watched as Zoe walked over to the bar and to the man. She didn’t want to stare, so she turned back to sip her wine.

* * *

“I can’t talk here,” he said and looked around to indicate people were too close.

“Look, I’m sorry that night didn’t work out, but it wasn’t meant to be,” Zoe tried to dismiss him.

“I have a guy at the table next to you and your friend. If you don’t come with me, he’ll put one right into her as she sits there,” he finally threatened.

And that’s why Zoe walked out with him quietly. She quickly texted; “ _I’m okay_ ,” to Janine before he took her phone and tossed it into the trash in the kitchen they walked through to get to his car.

The man at the table next to Janine stood up and looked down at her. She thought it was odd, but then she got the text. “Stay,” he said to her in a warning tone and left.

She turned quickly to see her girlfriend missing from the bar and knew there was trouble. She looked to see Martine and

Fusco were still there and knew what she had to do.

She called Shaw and Root.

* * *

The phone rang and woke Sameen up.

“Kid, if you’re testing to see if you can call me any odd hour of the night…,” Shaw barked into the phone, thinking it was 3 AM and it was Gen. She was wrong on both counts.

“Shaw, listen,” Janine whispered. “Zoe is in trouble and I’m going after her.”

“Where are you?” Shaw said, willing herself to wake up.

“Fusco and Martine are here, too, but I don’t want them to get hurt. I have no idea how many this guy has with him,” Janine said as she got her things together.

“Do _not_ move; stay there,” Shaw was ordering. “Where are you?”

“I think he took her through the back of the restaurant. I’m going after her,” Janine said, not thinking clearly.

“What’s with the poor listening skills?” Shaw yelled and woke up Root.

“Text Fusco; he’ll tell you where we are,” Janine said, hanging up.

“I am going to kill her; no fire her, then kill her,” Shaw barked and told her wife about the conversation.

Root quietly got out of bed; summoned Azar who was there in no time.

“It’s hard to be a vigilante when you have to wait for babysitters,” Shaw noted to her wife.

* * *

By the time Azar appeared, Janine had left cash on the table to cover the expensive dinner and waved good night to her friends. Martine noticed it immediately. She discretely went to Fusco’s table.

“Did you see Zoe leave?” she asked.

“No,” Fusco said because he was too busy looking over the dessert menu.

“Something’s up,” Martine said and got his full attention.

Janine walked out the front door, but she immediately turned down the alleyway where the man’s car was emerging. She stood right in front of it.

* * *

“Oh, God, please just let her go,” Zoe said to the man.

“If she wants to join you, it’s okay with me,” he said and his driver got out and directed Janine to the back of the car.

“It’s just business,” Zoe said when she sat across from Janine in the back of the limo.

Janine looked the man in the suit up and down. “You won’t even know I’m here,” Janine said.

“Your friend took something that was mine and cost me an opportunity,” the man shared.

“And what do you want from her?” Janine asked.

He laughed to think this petite woman was being so brave. It had to be because she had no idea how dangerous he was. He leaned over across the space and said – “I’m going to make sure she never takes anything from me again.”

“You’re going to get your ass kicked,” Janine said smugly.

The man laughed out loud and turned to Zoe. “You got feisty friends, I’ll give you that.”

“Just let her go, okay,” Zoe said because she did know what kind of man she was dealing with.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Janine said and crossed her arms.

This is why Zoe never mixed pleasure with business. Having people you care about is a dangerous thing in her line of work. She never worried when faced with a dangerous situation; but now that Janine was there, she felt sick to her stomach.

“Boss, we got trouble up ahead,” the driver said to him finally.

Janine quickly looked at her phone. ‘ _DUCK_ ’ – the text read. She reached over and pulled her girlfriend down.

“Shoot them,” the man said – right before his car was engulfed in a hail of bullets.

“I’m so glad I got a car with a sun roof,” Shaw said, as her wife stood up through the opening, shooting at the car that contained their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not much Root and Shaw here ... I'll make up for that soon.


	49. The Fighting Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, what do you know! Janine has a last name. At least, I think this is the first time we've seen it????

Shaw was so proud of how well her wife could shoot a rifle from the opening in their family car. The only thing that detracted from that feeling was catching her wife’s footwear. In their haste to get going that evening, Root didn’t change out of her bedroom attire.

“That is some badass shooting,” Shaw commended her wife as she looked out the side view mirror. But then, she turned back. “Really, Root? The bunny slippers?” she said, even though her wife was too busy to hear or answer.

* * *

“What the _hell_ is that!” yelled the man in the back of the limo, who up until now, thought he was in charge.

“ _That_ ,” Janine took the time to inform him, “…would be our friends!”

The man had no reason to doubt the pipsqueak since their ride suddenly got very rough when the front tires were shot.

“People underestimate the damage a bullet can do to tires!” shouted Root, down through the opening.

When the driver was driving on the rims, he finally stopped the car.

“Your friends only made things worse,” the man in the back snarled.

* * *

Martine and Ayala flew out of the restaurant, leaving Fusco to explain to a concerned Iris. “Someone took Zoe Morgan,” he said as he waved the waiter over and paid their bill, and the other couple’s, as well.

“Well, are you calling for backup?” Iris asked.

“I’m betting someone already did that,” Fusco said, trying to figure out how to get Iris home.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, putting her coat on. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you can’t. I can’t take a civilian with me,” Fusco explained.

“No, but you can take your girlfriend, and I’m going,” Iris said because she wasn’t leaving him while he went off on some wild goose chase.

Fusco already suspected that Janine would have called Shaw. That meant he most likely would provide handcuffs and the official report. Iris could sit in the car and would be proof that he was just passing by when all hell broke loose.

* * *

“Wait!” Root said, coming down through the moon roof and pulling something out of her glove compartment.

“Masks? You want us to wear masks?” Shaw asked, incredulously. “And when did you…?”

“I saw these when I was getting diapers and thought this would be fun!” Root squealed.

“ _Voice changing Star Wars_ masks?” Shaw asked, wide eyed.

“Well, I was thinking of a different setting; more bedroom capture setting,” Root explained as she donned hers. Then, in a breathy deep voice, changed from the mechanism in her mask, Root said; “Let’s go!”

“You’re freaking me out…,” Shaw was arguing, but the driver was getting out of the car, dazed, and Root was already out there. She growled and got out of the car to follow her wife, but not before putting on her Kylo Ren mask. “Who the hell is this guy, anyway?” Shaw had to ask – hearing her voice come out in a much huskier tone.

The only reason Sameen could think of for this ridiculous prop, was Root didn’t want anyone identifying Michael’s parents as the ones who arrived. But this was making the former operative’s skin crawl. In walking the ten feet to the car, Sameen decided two things; one – she was going to knock this guy so senseless; he wouldn’t remember who hit him. And two – if her wife could wear bunny slippers, she could take off her mask.

* * *

“Your friends are from _Star Wars_?” the man asked from the back seat. When Janine moved towards him, he raised his foot and hit her in the abdomen. It knocked the wind out of her and sent her flying hard into the seat. She slumped over, temporarily knocked out.

“STOP!” Zoe called out and went to grab her friend; but her assailant had his gun out now, and grabbed Zoe. “If you hurt her, I will kill you,” Zoe snapped at him.

“Get out with me and I won’t shoot you,” he said unfazed.

“Listen, Jack, let these people go, okay? Trust me, you don’t want to get mixed up with them and I’ll go with you, if you don’t hurt anyone,” Zoe tried her best to convince him.

“If you don’t get out with me now, I’ll shoot your friend here,” he threatened.

Within seconds, he had Zoe Morgan by the arm, his gun pointed at her side. Zoe stepped out with her hands up. “Hey, guys,” she called out to the couple. “My friend here has agreed not to hurt anyone,” and Zoe moved her head to indicate where Janine was.

“Well, that’s nice,” Root said, but her voice was decidedly Darth Vader-ish.

“I… just…I can’t,” Shaw said, taking off her mask and taking care of the driver on the other side of the car. She was right; he never saw her coming.

The man pushed Zoe out in front of him and told the two women to put their guns down. Root did immediately and Shaw put hers on the car hood.

* * *

“What are we doing here?” Iris asked her detective boyfriend as they pulled over on a side street and waited.

“I got a text that said to wait here,” he explained. He didn’t mention that the text was from an all seeing artificial intelligence that had disabled all the street cameras and was wreaking havoc with the traffic lights.

Now, Martine and Ayala rushed onto the scene, but could see the guy was already holding Zoe hostage.

“What is Root…?” Ayala started to ask.

The two women got out of the car that they parked down the block. Cornering this guy might make him shoot first, ask second. They crouched down and moved slowly along the line of garbage bins that lined the vacant street.

* * *

“This guy means business,” Zoe Morgan said. Shaw noticed there wasn’t anything about the Fixer to indicate she was worried about her own safety. “Please just let us leave so you can…,” Zoe said and again, moved her head in the direction of the car.

Then Shaw got it.

“Did he hurt her?” she yelled. “Did you touch her?” she screamed louder. “I will kill you with my bare hands, you sonova bitch!”

Zoe’s suggestion to let them go so Shaw could look after Janine had ignited the shortest fuse known to humankind.

“She’s worried about the little one?” he laughed. “I think they care more about her than you, Zoe.”

“No, first I’ll kill you if you touched her; then, I’m going to kick your ass for messing with Zoe,” Shaw outlined and in the order of the worst trespasses.

“We’re taking your car,” he said and pointed the gun at Zoe’s head now – so they could see he meant business.

“Let’s… let them go…,” Root said slowly and stepped aside.

Zoe Morgan couldn’t help it; she looked down at Root’s feet and then back up at her. “Nice,” she said because she felt better that it would only be the two of them soon. She didn’t want her friends in danger.

Zoe may have been in three inch stilettos, but she was already planning on trying to disarm her captor. Root may have been in slippers, but she was already planning on losing her foot attire and grabbing her gun, to take out the tires – if they made it to the car. Shaw was counting on Root to handle them, so she could check on Janine.

The Machine had already disabled their car, so no one was going anywhere.

But the last thing anyone was planning on – was Janine coming to in the car and seeing the situation outside.

“Oh, no!” Martine said, when she saw the assistant emerge. “Go back inside, please go back inside,” she silently pleaded.

“I can’t get a good shot,” Ayala said of the captor.

“If we rush in, he’ll shoot Zoe,” Martine decided.

Shaw was about to make her move when she saw Janine. “No!” Shaw barked at the woman – who was too fired up to listen to reason.

Janine Reynolds – all five-foot four inches of her - looked like a blur as she barreled towards the man who was easily six feet. She ran from the other side of the car and took a leaping jump at him from behind, so that she could grab his neck and pull with all her might backwards.

It was incredibly… daring. Ineffective, but daring.

The only thing he noticed before the attack was the odd look on Shaw’s face as she saw the bundle of anger and energy emerging from the car – like a bat out of hell.

Janine had witnessed Shaw subdue a person dozens of times. She had watched carefully, as Sameen grabbed them around the throat and press down hard, getting them in a choke hold. Then, she studied Shaw using her legs to wrap around them and pull downward with all her strength, rendering them unconscious.

Of course, that formula included a woman who could dead lift and could actually pull a man backwards.

At first, Janine looked like someone trying to bend an iron pole. She ran, leaped, and grabbed the man from behind; certainly surprising him, but not moving him. As hard as she pulled or tried to get her legs around him, it didn’t work. But it was distracting enough that Zoe could turn and knee him so hard, he was rendered unconscious.

Unfortunately, that meant he fell backwards – right onto his other attacker who was still holding onto his neck. And for a second time that night, Janine had the wind knocked out of her. The two toppled over like dominoes.

Shaw immediately pulled the unconscious man up and off Janine; throwing him unceremoniously onto his stomach. Zoe rushed to her as Root retrieved their guns and kept an eye on the man.

“Her head is bleeding,” Zoe said, and the former MD sprang into action.

Shaw ripped the sleeves off her long sleeved top and applied pressure to the wound. “It’s okay,” she said when her face was close to Janine’s. “We got you,” is what Janine heard through the fog that had descended upon her. She wasn’t sure what happened exactly because it felt like she was struck by a truck. But she did know Shaw was there – and she was certain now, everything would be okay.

* * *

‘ _Cleanup on Aisle 5_ ’ – is the text the Machine sent to Fusco.

“Wait here, okay?” he said to his girlfriend. “And lock the car.” He was right around the corner from the action.

Fusco arrived just as Martine and Ayala appeared. Root told Fusco to call for an ambulance. “Oh geez, Maybelline’s gonna lose it,” he said when he heard Janine was hurt. “Nice shoes, Cocoa.”

“She okay?” Martine asked, worried about her friend. Ayala stood behind her sister, putting her hand on her shoulder.

“She will be,” Shaw said, never taking her eyes off her friend.

Now, Zoe was next over Janine, holding her hand, as Shaw saw to the wound. “Oh, my God; I am so sorry,” Zoe said and Sameen could hear her voice shake. It was perhaps the first time she ever heard Zoe anything less than cool and calm.

“I got this,” Fusco announced because he had already handcuffed the driver and Jack. Then, Fusco saw the worst part of this scenario. He watched as Shaw was watching over Janine. She took a second to look up at Zoe Morgan.

“You and me? We’re _not_ done here,” Shaw said in a threatening tone.

“Sure, Shaw,’ Zoe said softly because she understood the woman was reacting from a very protective place.

* * *

The men were handcuffed; the ambulance was called and Zoe convinced Shaw that if she rode in the vehicle, she’d have to talk to the police about what happened.

“Better we handled this,” Fusco said, feeling the tense muscle in Shaw’s arm.

“You stay with her!” she barked at her friend. “You don’t leave her for a minute; you got me?” she said to Fusco.

In the short time it took for the ambulance to arrive; Fusco went over the official story with Zoe Morgan, who thankfully, had a knack for concocting stories to get out of situations. Zoe was a known entity to the police for her good deeds; so it wasn’t far-fetched that a disgruntled man would accost while she was out to dinner with her girlfriend. It wasn’t unbelievable that Fusco, who was dining at the same establishment, would have noticed her sudden disappearance and tailed the car.

It would have been nice to have video surveillance to back all this up, but a sudden failure in the grid on the West Side made that impossible.

* * *

Shaw and Root drove to the hospital to meet them there. Root called her mother-in-law to assure her everything was okay.

“But you already knew that, right?” Root said, knowing the Machine would have communicated with her.

“Is Sameen okay?” she asked, knowing how her daughter reacted to her friends being hurt.

“She will be,” Root said as she braced herself in the seat as her wife drove like a maniac to the hospital.

It was the one time Root wished the Machine would cause the traffic lights to go red; just so they would slow down.


	50. A Stitch in Tme

Root truly regretted wearing bunny slippers because they provided no traction; an ideal fix when one is being thrust around in the car when taking corners at a fast clip in a car.

The only thing moving faster at the moment, was Iris – who had not stayed in the car, but ventured out to watch the whole scenario play out in front of her. Now, she was left to put the crazy puzzle together. She wasn’t surprised that her boyfriend ran to aid his friends; or that Zoe Morgan could be mixed up with someone of a dubious nature. She was not surprised that Janine acted on instinct and bravely went after the man who had her friend. She had glanced over at them at dinner and noticed how enamored they seemed with one another. She even watched Martine and Ayala rush up afterwards to make sure everyone was alright.

What _did_ surprise Iris was that no one seemed concerned about the cameras that were pointed down in their direction.

After Fusco assured Shaw he would follow the ambulance, he returned to his car.

“Everything okay?” Iris asked from the passenger seat, where one would assume she had been sitting the whole time.

“Some nut job that Zoe pissed off; tried to take them hostage. But that assistant of Shaw’s? She’s a pistol,” Fusco said.

“Yes, I know her,” Iris said, because sometimes her boyfriend forgot where she worked. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, bump on the head and some bleeding, but Shaw’s going to rip someone a new one if they don’t cancel all surgeries and take care of her, so I better go to the hospital,” the detective explained. “I took an oath to protect the citizens of New York, and that pretty much means anyone who is about to come into contact with Shaw.”

Proving that she knew more than she was letting onto, and that she truly did know her favorite client well, Iris asked; “I would think it’s _Zoe Morgan_ who needs your protection.”

Fusco’s head whipped sideways to look at his passenger. There was no way to draw that conclusion unless you had been privy to what went on. “Yeah,” is all he said, now thinking that perhaps Iris had witnessed everything.

He asked her repeatedly if she wanted him to drop her off, but Iris insisted she wanted to go with him. If only she could publish an article about the true nature of these heroic friends!

* * *

The bumpy ride in the ambulance and the not-so-gentle landing of the gurney when they arrived did little to help Janine stay awake. But she was aware enough to know Zoe was right with her. She pulled at Zoe’s hand to come closer and asked about the thing that concerned her the most.

“Is Shaw upset?”

“No, she’s concerned about you,” Zoe lied, but Janine felt the woman’s hand stiffen when she answered.

“I’ll talk to her,” Janine assured her girlfriend, right before giving in to the heavy fog that surrounded her. Even teetering on being unconscious, the woman knew who was in the gravest danger.

Fusco had two jobs – one was to handle his fellow officers at the scene of the crime and give them a plausible story. And the second task; the much harder task; was to prepare the hospital for Shaw’s arrival. In spite of not practicing medicine for several years, the woman walked into most hospitals like she was Chief of Staff. He rushed into the ER to meet the ambulance when it arrived. His girlfriend was right on his heels.

“Detective Fusco,” he announced and was allowed access. “Doctor Campbell,” he added so Iris could come with him. When he realized that this might be the first time the therapist saw all these people together under extreme duress; he turned back to her.

“You might want to skip taking notes on this.” Light blue eyes stared up at him. “I just mean,” Fusco said, caught between his intelligent girlfriend and the storm that was approaching, “… people do things… when they’re upset.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Iris said, touching his arm to indicate he shouldn’t worry. His smile said okay, but there was a layer of… “Okay, I warned you.”

He no sooner had shot his girlfriend that look when metal doors slammed against the wall when the person on the other side pushed with all her might.

“And here we go…,” Fusco said under his breath.

* * *

Sameen walked into the area reserved for hospital personnel, police and, oh yes, patients – and apparently people who felt they were in charge.

Shaw knew how this worked. People were triaged; treated on the severity of their medical issues and a bash to the head would come after gunshot wounds or heart attacks.

“Where is she?” she asked and was already pulling back flimsy curtains that were supposed to shield patients. She was up to her third try and was losing patience with finding her friend.

“I really should have gotten her a fake ID,” Root whispered to Fusco.

“Sure, tell the cop,” he replied.

“It would have made it easier,” Root argued and he had to admit, she had a point.

Shaw finally found her friend; lying in the hospital bed; hooked up to an IV of saline solution. Zoe was right at her side, holding her hand and wiping the hair away from her face. It Sameen weren’t so upset; she might have appreciated that whole scene. But she knew what her priority was and she approached the bed on the other side.

“Still bleeding,” she said as she looked at the wound that was unattended because some idiot got himself shot in the next bed and was screaming to be put out of his misery. The woman who would oblige him was a curtain away. “We have to clean up that would and stitch you up, Mr. Prato,” the nurse was explaining because the bullet went straight through. Shaw listened as the nurse got all the meds and suture kit ready. “I need that,” she said to Root who understood. Root smiled up at the security camera and the rest was history.

An order came in for lidocaine, suture kit, and bandages just as Root was managing to borrow a white coat.

“This is what they do,” he said to his girlfriend who watched in silence.

* * *

“You ordered this?” the intern asked Shaw, now donned in a white coat.

“Of course I did!” she barked because that’s how doctors talked to those underneath them on the medical staff hierarchy. She took the needle with the numbing agent and looked at Zoe. “Distract her,” she said and Zoe put her hand on Janine’s face that held her half opened eyes.

“Look at me, honey,” Zoe said and held her head in place as Shaw cleaned the wound area and then numbed it.  
Janine’s body jumped just the slightest, but her face broke out in a smile anyway. “Is that Shaw?” she asked Zoe and closed her eyes to concentrate on how gentle she was being. “I like Shaw,” she said as the area got numb.

Shaw shot Zoe an expression that was meant to say – _If you’re squeamish, get the hell away from here_ – but Zoe just nodded it was okay to start. Shaw began the meticulous job of repairing her friend’s flesh.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Root said as her wife stitched up Janine’s head as if she did it every day.

“Yeah,” Fusco said, watching the expression on Iris’ face.

* * *

Minutes later, Shaw pulled the thread and knotted it. “There,” she said, to indicate her handwork was done.

“How do you feel?” Zoe asked Janine.

“I want to see Shaw,” Janine said and Zoe moved out of the way.

Sameen looked at Zoe as she passed; indicating they weren’t done. Then, the former MD, posing as an MD, took her place in front of the woman who asked for her.

“Shaw?” Janine said, and put her other hand out to take Sameen’s. Shaw stopped and looked over at Root- her expression reading; _we’re going to hold hands? I want to strangle someone; and she wants to hold my hand_?

_That_ was, in fact, exactly why the astute assistant wanted to hold Shaw’s hand.

Root’s pursed lips confirmed that she thought Sameen had to comply. “Fine,” Shaw uttered and took the offered hand.

Janine waited until she could see Sameen’s face. “Shaw, it wasn’t her fault,” she said and both Zoe and Sameen were talking now. Janine pulled on both their hands. “She had no idea he was there. It wasn’t like she took me on a date while she was on a job,” she pointed out.

“Okay, you made your case; now, can you let go of my hand?” asked the surgeon.

“Not until you promise me you won’t hurt her,” Janine declared… proving she knew her boss well.

Zoe wanted her girlfriend to be assured that Shaw wouldn’t do anything, but Shaw turned to her and smirked. “That’s not necessarily true,” Shaw uttered and was pulled further down toward the bed. It was a surprisingly strong yank.

* * *

“Shaw,” Janine said and as much as Sameen wanted to avoid looking down, she felt compelled to do so.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked, her eyes orbiting their sockets.

“Did I get him?” she asked and Shaw wasn’t prepared for that.

“Did you… what?” Shaw asked.

“Did I get him? The guy? Did I get him, or did you?” Janine asked. In her mind, they were the only two choices.

The proverbial pin could have dropped because there was no noise as everyone waited for Sameen to answer. Shaw wanted to inform her friend that they were going to have a long talk; a seriously long talk, about what she did and how she was prohibited from ever doing that again. Shaw was going to give her that talk right after she chewed Zoe Morgan up and spit her out.

Shaw looked down at the exhausted woman who was waiting for her answer.

“You did; you badass,” Sameen said and was rewarded with the goofiest, sweetest smile she had ever seen.

“Wow,” Janine said, drifting back to sleep.

* * *

It was finally Janine’s turn to be looked at by an actually member of the ER staff. The doctor walked in and started to ask questions. He took one look at the other doctor at the bedside. “What are you…?” he tried to ask.

“I recommend a CT scan to make sure there’s no concussion or further injury,” Shaw said so authoritatively that the doctor agreed.

“I’ll be right here,” Zoe said when they wheeled Janine away for the scan.

Iris and Fusco went into the waiting area to update Ayala and Martine. Root took the white lab coat back and returned it to the cart down the hall.

This… left the Fixer alone... with Shaw.


	51. Tough Choices

Zoe watched as Shaw contemplated her possible next action. The Fixer decided if things got physical, at least she was in the best location. But watching the woman, whose face was contorted with angst, she doubted it would come to that. At least, she hoped not.

The reason Sameen hadn’t spoken was because she was caught. She knew Zoe was bright enough to know - _never bring a Janine to a gun fight_. And she figured that Zoe probably did everything she could to keep Janine out of it. She also knew her fervent assistant had a mind of her own. Still, Shaw had sworn that if anything happened to her trusted associate, someone would pay. Shaw grew up making sure people paid for their transgressions. In fact, she built her whole career on it.

So did Zoe.

“Look, Shaw,” Zoe finally said, figuring she’d poke at Sameen to give her the opportunity to bite. “You know I would never get her mixed up in anything dangerous if I could avoid it.”

Of course Shaw knew that, but hearing it reminded her she didn’t have a clear cut action here.

Then, because Zoe was finding the silence worse than the yelling she was expecting; she dug herself deeper. “People like you and me…,” she said, thinking that Sameen could relate to having a dangerous lifestyle, but she realized Shaw didn’t like the comparison. “O...kay,” Zoe said, getting the message from the look on Sameen’s face; “People like me… don’t expect to ever find someone who they care about as much as I do Janine. I used to tell myself it was my career that was the reason there was no one special; but in reality, Shaw; it was because I hadn’t find the right person.”

Sameen listened to Zoe speak from her heart; something neither woman was comfortable doing.

“Whaddaya think is going on with those two?” Fusco asked anyone who cared to venture a guess. All three women looked over, but only his girlfriend offered an insight.

Iris had watched her favorite client as Shaw listened and processed the situation. It wasn’t her advanced degrees in psychology that helped her do that; it was truly written all over Shaw’s face. “Sameen’s doing right by her friend,” Iris smiled.

And that was _before_ Shaw had uttered another word.

Finally, Shaw kneaded her feelings inside until a clear thought rose in her head. She turned to look at Zoe, just as Root appeared at the edge of the area. “You really care about her,” Shaw said – and it wasn’t really a question, but the conclusion she came to after thinking this all over.

“I do,” Zoe confirmed.

“Then, we’re going to have to look out for her; together,” Shaw decided.

Zoe mistakenly thought that was the period at the end of the Shaw threatening sentence. It turned out to be more of a semicolon. The closely related independent clause was coming.

“If I ever think you arent't watching out for her, this will be a different conversation,” Shaw warned, because she wasn’t putting money on how long they’d last just yet. “Broken bones or broken heart, Morgan; it’s all the same to me.”

It was because of how much Zoe cared for this overzealous sweetheart, could she also appreciate how protective Shaw was of the woman. “I got that,” Zoe said and turned to see Root smiling hearts at her wife for what she had just said.

“I’m not going easy on her for pulling that, though,” Shaw announced and almost no one believed her.

“What does that even mean?” Fusco asked outside where they could overhear.

“She’ll train her,” Ayala surmised and was right.

“Oh, God,” Martine said unsure of which of her friends she would be most concerned about if that happened.

Root walked further into the area now; her eyes locked on the woman who seemed to be able to impress her with something new every day. “Hey,” she smiled, nudging her wife with her shoulder.

“They …,” Sameen said as if Root had just come in to get the latest update on their entire situation; “… really care for each other.” Root noticed the calm tone Sameen used; not the usual disdain that she reserved for statements like that.

“Good,” Root smiled; because she was glad Sameen was on the same page as she was. “That’s really nice.”

“We’ll see,” Shaw said, never one to jump to conclusions.

Just then, the patient was wheeled back into the area and pronounced well enough to leave.

“No concussion,” the doctor said and looked at Sameen who no longer was wearing her white coat.

“Good,” Sameen said, getting right back in character. “That guy is a real pain in the ass,” she said, her eyes rolling to the man who had been yelling in pain.

“I’ll get him,” the doctor said, buying into the delusion that another staff member was talking to him.

“Everybody … okay?” was the first thing Janine wanted to know.

Shaw didn’t miss a beat. “If you mean did your girlfriend convince me that she tried to talk you out of being so reckless, then yes. If you mean am I done talking to you about how reckless you were, then no,” Shaw said, staring down at the woman in the wheel chair.

It was _supposed_ to be a stiff warning; in a tone that was _supposed_ to intimidate at the very least. It was _supposed_ to cast a shadow of fear over the younger woman.

“Okay, sure, Shaw,” Janine beamed up at her; in part thrilled that she had something to look forward to.

“I’m not going easy either!” Shaw said, just to make sure her assistant understood. “I’m not,” she repeated, looking at Root.

“I don’t blame you,” Root said.

“I thought you said I was a badass?” Janine recalled her favorite part and wanted to remind Shaw.

Now, Sameen looked at Root and Zoe. Zoe was… _this_ … close to confirming what her girlfriend just said as true. But she thought better of it. No sense in pushing your luck. Root simply raised her eyebrow – a simple gesture that assured her wife she knew what to do. Sameen turned her focus back to the patient.

“Even badasses need training,” Shaw said and everyone agreed that was the perfect response.

“So, true,” Zoe and Root both said.

Janine actually cast her eyes to the side; as if a choice had been issued. “Okay,” she said and nodded her aching head.

“Okay? What…did you think… did she seriously think… that was question? Like a choice?” Shaw asked, as Root took her wife by the arm and walked her out to the group.

“I think she’s serious,” Zoe said as she helped Janine up from the wheel chair.

“I know,” Janine said, smiling from ear to ear.

* * *

For the first time, Sameen realized that her therapist was among the people waiting for them.

“Seriously, Doc; how do you _not_ have each and every one of these people in your office? Okay, not Martine…,” she clarified. “Or Root, of course,” she said, narrowing it down to her sister, Janine and Zoe. “You could do groups, you know? Make it easier on yourself, so you don’t have to listen to each of them whine individually?”

“I’ll give it some thought,” Doctor Campbell said smiling; which meant she was being her usual nice self, but wouldn’t act on Sameen’s urgent suggestion.

 _Now, let’s face it; it’s a rare occurrence for any therapist to actually witness their clients putting into action the things they talk about in sessions. Typically, they come up with some suggestions that they and the client agree on might help. Then, they wait until the next session for the patient to tell whether they tried it or not; whether it worked or not; or avoid the topic altogether._  
_So, the fact that iris was watching Sameen handle a situation first hand, was a blessed insight that was rare._

“Well, I hope you were paying attention to all of this, because you could write a book,” Sameen surmised.

“Oh, I was watching _quite_ closely,” Iris assured her.

Sameen took that to mean that the therapist would then have plenty of evidence to warrant several sessions from most of the people in their little group. She never expected that she’d be the _first_ one called in.

* * *

The group waited for Janine to be discharged and then watched as Zoe got into a cab with her.

“Did I at least win the bet?” Shaw barked at her spy – and thereby, outing him.

“I _knew_ you sent him there to spy on me!” Ayala bellowed. “Tell her, Detective; tell her!”

Now poor Fusco hemmed and hawed as all eyes fell upon him. Only Martine’s seemed sympathetic. Iris’ seemed to say – ‘ _You got yourself into this; now, you’re going to have to get out._ ’

“Thanks, a lot,” he said to Iris, who pursed her lips and headed to his car. Fusco didn’t get the gold shield of being a detective by not having some street smarts. And those instincts were telling him to move slowly away from the danger. “Here’s the thing, Shaw,” he said … increasing the distance between them, “…I think you’re rubbing off on her. From what I saw, I think that talk you had with her did some good. She’s a changed woman!”

 _None_ of that impressed the woman who was being informed she lost a sizeable bet.

“Are you telling me I lost a hundred dollars, Fusco!” she barked.

“Well, yeah… _plus_ dinner,” he said and got in the car. The only thing anyone heard was the click of the door locks.

“He has very good taste in wine,” Ayala said as Martine pulled her away and waved goodbye.

* * *

Root and Shaw walked to their car, now that everyone had left. “You know, Root, if I could go back in time; you know what I would do?” Shaw asked as she held the door open for her wife.

“Take all your clothes off in your interview like I wished you had done?” Root gushed, getting in.

Shaw got in the driver’s side and just turned to stare at the woman who had just uttered those words.

“No,” she answered because she didn’t know where to begin with that statement. “I would go back to the day you wanted to hire those people and lock you in the closet so you couldn’t.”

“I didn’t hire any of them, and technically, only two of them work for us,” Root pointed out.

Shaw hated when Root burst her improbable bubbles. She was too tired to pursue the discussion, so she slowly took off into traffic. “What is that in your lap, Root?” she asked.

“Well, you looked so hot in that doctor’s coat that I thought …,” Root started.

“You got me one of those already; remember? With my name on it?” Shaw pointed out.

Root smirked devilishly and held the jacket up to display the inscription on the upper left hand side.

“I know; but, this says – _Chief of Gynecology_ ,” Root answered.


	52. Charades

The couple arrived home; Shaw’s mind unable to let go of the fact that she paid for someone to find out she lost a bet! “And my sister said he had good taste in wine, which I bet means - Fusco sent expensive wine to her table…,” she was ranting as they got on the elevator. Suddenly, something cut her off; both her words and her oxygen.

Root had barely waited for the door to close before lunging at Sameen to kiss her. In the past few hours she had witnessed her wife be a badass, a doctor, and a really good friend. For Root; it was the _trifecta_ of turn-on’s.

“God, I love it when you flex your muscles,” Root said, finally letting go of Shaw’s lips, but still pressing into her and pinning her against the wall.

“When did I…?” Shaw was asking when her soft lips were pummeled again.

“I was watching you…,” Root said, gasping for air, “…the way you handled everything… and everyone…,” she said, leaning back a little to run her hands up Shaw’s bare arms.

“I stitched a woman’s head,” Shaw pointed out.

“I know!” Root said, and kissed her again.

“You get turned on by the craziest things,” Shaw laughed softly.

“You had me... at turned on…,” Root said as the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival.

Shaw slowly followed her wife, shaking her head at how Root’s mind worked. It seemed to be equal parts genius and kinky.

* * *

Azar met them in the entryway, looking them up and down to see how they were. “Michael has been a perfect angel,” she updated the parents.

“She gets that from Root,” Shaw smiled and hugged her mother.

“Your sleeves…,” Azar noted that Sameen’s were missing.

Root knew the Machine would have kept Azar up to date, but she loved telling the story of how heroic her wife was. “She ripped them off when the guy fell on top of Janine and she bumped her head!”

“Is she okay?” Azar asked and Sameen looked at her mother and wife, as if some all-seeing artificial intelligence hadn’t been keeping them connected.

“She had a bag gash; and you know how Emergency Rooms are; you have to wait so long! So, Sameen stitched her up!” Root all but squealed and took Shaw’s arm again. “She was amazing!”

“Okay, I think you’ve used up your daily allotment of exclamation points,” Sameen said, dismissing her wife’s enthusiastic commendations.

“Then, she walked that fine line between allowing Janine to think she saved the day… _AND_ … making sure the woman doesn’t become so confident, she tries it again,” Root continued.

“She’s going to try it again,” Shaw thought it important to point out.

“What will you do?” Azar asked.

“She’s going to train her,” Root answered for her wife because she knew the answer. “I can’t say Janine isn’t looking forward to that, but who could blame her.”

“She better _not_ be looking forward to that!” Shaw remarked, and then decided to try the line she had used on everyone else. Turning to Azar she added; “I’m _not_ going easy on her.”

“I see,” Azar said, believing Root’s expression more than her daughter’s declaration.

“Well, whipping the world into shape actually is tiring,” Shaw said and walked into the kitchen for a drink of water.

* * *

“Is she okay?” Azar asked the woman who would tell her truthfully.

“Well…,” Root said, getting back to her initial plan; “… you know Sameen; she won’t say if she’s hurt. I was thinking I might spend a little time… making sure?”

Sameen walked back in to see the expression on Root’s face as she tried to convey her secret meaning. Then, she turned to watch her mother’s expression go from perplexed to enlightened - as Root projected the absolute truth through sparking brown eyes that practically giggled with anticipation.

“Oh, of course,” Azar winked at her daughter-in-law. “I was going to go back to sleep. That’s if, neither of you mind?”

Azar’s question was as poorly played as Root’s disguised message.

“No, that’s fine,” Root agreed. “Sameen and I are tired, too.”

Azar smiled at the couple and retreated to the guest bedroom, where her angelic granddaughter slept peacefully.

* * *

“You two done?” Shaw asked, letting her wife know that performance was pitiful.

“What?” Root blushed, getting caught. “I told your mother that I need some time to make sure… you’re okay.”

“Me? I’m fine!” Shaw professed. “I think you’re the one with the fever.”

Root enjoyed her wife’s play on words and smiled as she took Shaw’s hand and pulled her upstairs. As soon as Root closed the door; it was as if the world gave her permission to act on her desires. Sameen thought for sure she was going to ask her to don the white doctor’s coat, but when Sameen turned around; Root already had it on.

“Oh, so _you’re_ going to be …,” Shaw laughed as Root pulled her to sit on the bed. “Okay, then.”

“How are you feeling?” Root asked as her hands started to feel Shaw’s throat on either side.

“No complaints; except that I work with a bunch of crazy people,” Shaw noted.

“Say ah,” Root said and there was a tongue depressor in Shaw’s mouth before she knew it.

“You do come prepared,” Sameen said.

“When was your last physical?” Root asked, looking down at a clipboard that seemed to appear from nowhere.

“You know they don’t use clipboards, right? I mean, everything is digitized?” Sameen poked fun.

“You know if you don’t cooperate, we have to restrain you?” Root said back.

“Where are you going to do that in my own … never mind,” Sameen thought better of it. “Last year.”

“Better,” Root said of the uncooperative subject. “Active sex life?”

“Cutting to the chase a little fast, aren’t we doc?” Shaw couldn’t help but tease.

“Ms. Shaw, you’re here because most of your colleagues have noted an irritability issue…,” Root chose her play words carelessly.

“WHAT? Who said that? Was it Fusco? Because that man is in a lot of trouble, losing my bet and costing me money,” ranted the woman who was still having trouble with dipping in and out of Root’s fantasy world.

Root smiled and placed her finger on Sameen’s wild lips. “I made that up,” Root whispered.

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. “Oh, good,” Shaw said, holding onto it for later – just in case.

“In my experience, irritability is usually a sign of…,” Root said, pulling down the reading glasses that she also had just put on. “… pent up sexual frustration.”

“Does Doctor Campbell know you’re practicing without a license?” Shaw laughed.

Root’s head tilted to the side, as big eyes looked over at Shaw – asking – ‘ _Do you really want to mention her name… now?_ ’ Shaw read that entire question in one glance.

“Okay, (cough)… no,” Shaw said.

“As I was saying, this often means that the individual has a great deal of pent up energy. Our job…,” Root said, putting the arm of her eye glasses, seductively in her mouth, “… is to find that energy… and… expel it.”

“You’re going to expel … my energy?” Shaw asked.

“Yes, we take precise measurements and zero in on the source,” Root said and could hardly keep still by her own words.

“Well, Doctor Feelgood,” Shaw made up on the spur, “… I think it’s pretty deep.”

“Deep is my specialty,” the faux doctor replied instantly.

“I bet,” Shaw quipped. “How do I know you’re qualified?”

“I’ve never… and I mean never… had any complaints,” Root said.

“You sound pretty confident that you can … cure me,” Shaw teased.

“I’m not going to stop until you are,” Root smiled, as she couldn’t take the word play anymore and pushed Sameen down onto the bed.

Shaw laughed, but had to admit – Root being bossy – was exciting enough to make her forget how tired she was. “I’m in your capable hands,” Shaw groaned as the doctor’s skilled fingers roamed her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am sorry to end it there - but I will pick it up here in the next chapter - promise.


	53. Laser Like Focus

While Doctor Groves conducted her research with great fervor, our other couples settled in, as well.

Zoe insisted that Janine come home with her, and Janine agreed, _only_ if Zoe promised to wake her in a couple of hours so she could go to work. “Shaw’s had a rough night,” Janine said with sincerity.

Zoe shook her head at the devoted assistant who was worried about her boss.

The couple walked into the very expensive apartment that seemed to be something out of a magazine. Everything was coordinated and there was very little that would indicate whose apartment you were in. There were no photos, mementos, or awards. Janine thought it looked like the kind of place someone could enjoy living in, but not feel bad about leaving.

Especially, if you had to leave in a hurry.

She insisted on resting on the couch and Zoe went to get her a pillow and sheets. She looked around the vast space and thought how sterile it all looked and she felt sad for her friend.

“I was so worried for you,” … _both_ of them said in unison to each other, after Zoe made up the couch.

“You mean that guy?” the Fixer scoffed because he would be considered a lightweight in her business.

“No!” Janine said, because she knew where the real danger was. “Because of Shaw! She’s kind of overly protective,” the woman whispered as if it were a secret. “I don’t know what to do with her …,” she added when she put her head down on the pillow.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Zoe smiled as Janine’s eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

Zoe smiled as her girlfriend drifted off. Then, she quietly walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She opened her calendar on her phone and was glad to see her appointments were later in the day. Last night was a reminder of how dangerous her business was; and how dangerous it was for her to be in a relationship. She looked lovingly over at the woman asleep on her couch. “What the hell are you doing, Zoe?” she asked herself. In spite of positive outcome of last night’s event; and the fact that their friends were suddenly available to them; Zoe worried that next time might not work out so well.

She decided right then and there; she needed to talk to _someone_ who would give it to her straight.

* * *

Doctor Groves proved to be a most dedicated physician. After diligently locating what she told her patient was the center of her pent up energy, she explained a deep massage was the only way to help release it. The genius forgot herself for a moment, sharing that the name of the internal sensitive spot was credited to German gynecologist, Ernst Grafenberg. “Hence the name; G-spot,” she concluded.

“Root!” Shaw demanded with jagged breaths; “… please do not naaaammmme my booooddddy PARTS!” came the exasperated squeal as the doctor zeroed in on the exact anatomy she just named.

Sameen would forgive Root that indiscretion quickly because she never mentioned it on any of the next three consecutive demonstrations.

The good doctor knew that blissful exhaustion after body tremoring culminations was just what Shaw needed.

Root drifted off to sleep, too; right next to her patient.

* * *

Fusco was trying to get some sleep, but his girlfriend couldn’t seem to stop asking inquisitive questions.

“Aren’t there street cameras up and down that area?” she asked, sipping tea and taking a bite of jam covered toast.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Fusco said, hoping she’d hurry up so he could get a couple of hours of sleep before heading back to work. “We should try to get some shuteye.”

“Yes, I guess,” Iris said, putting the jam away and washing up her dish. “You’re not worried about the cameras? About someone checking to see all of you there? At the scene? With that guy?”

It wasn’t so much that Lionel felt pressured by Iris, but rather, by his own good conscience that told him, he didn’t want to keep secrets from this woman.

“Okay, look…,” he said, taking her small hands in his solid ones and looking into her waiting eyes. That reflection seemed to clearly indicate the conflict between wanting to tell her the truth, and wanting to keep her safe. “It’s just that…,” he began as his brain went on high alert to stop the flow of coherent words, “… I gotta talk to Shaw.”

With that, he dropped Iris’ hands and turned around to undress and go to sleep.

“You’re not the only one,” Iris said as she wondered what he had to talk about.

* * *

By the time morning broke, Sameen was up and singing at the top of her lungs to Michael. “It’s up to you, New York, New York!” she belted out the famous Frank Sinatra song. “These little town blues… are melting away,” she sang as she kicked her right leg then her left leg; Rockette style, and making the baby laugh; “It’s up to you; New York, New Yooooork!”

“Well, Doctor;” Azar said to her daughter-in-law with a sly smile; “I’d say the operation was a success.”

Root smiled and wondered how her mother-in-law knew the exact nature of her latest cosplay when she looked down to see she was still in her white coat. Root watched the knowing woman follow Sameen downstairs, before uttering; “She still needs a few follow-up visits.”

Sameen and Michael made their grand entrance into the kitchen just as Sameen concluded the last stanza.

“Well, _someone_ is in a very good mood this morning,” Isabelle noted and Sameen thought she meant the baby.

“Yeah, right? And that’s in spite of her grandmother babysitting her,” Sameen teased and received a slap on her derriere from her mother. The surprised look on Shaw’s face made Michael and the chef laugh. “You know,” she said, turning to face the brave woman who had just administered that smack, “… I’ve hurt stronger women for less.”

“Sit down and eat your breakfast,” Azar teased, not in the least bit threatened; a fact that annoyed her daughter.

“Root! Did you see that?” Shaw asked, thinking her wife would handle it.

“Yes! And I really can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you,” Root sympathized and those soothing words caused her wife to turn back to her mother with a – “SEE!” expression, which quickly changed to an eye roll when Root added; “… unless it’s me, of course.”

“Oh, geez, Root,” Shaw groaned, as her mother’s smirk matched her wife’s.

Shaw felt outnumbered - and it was only 7:30 in the morning.

Isabelle came to her rescue with an assortment of breakfast foods that could satisfy a small army; or one Shaw. She ate and smiled all through the meal; never once really listening to the banter of her mother and her wife. Nothing was going to spoil this meal.

“I can take Michael today,” Isabelle offered and considering the rainy weather, both mothers agreed.

“Grandma needs to go home and take a nap…,” Sameen said, and it sounded like she was being thoughtful, “…because Grandma is old,” she added and Michael let out a scream.

“She’s on my side,” Azar said and kissed them all goodbye.

The couple kissed their daughter goodbye, promising to be back for lunch. Then, they headed off to work.

* * *

“I want to check on the Machine to make sure everything is scrubbed clean after last night,” Root said, having changed into more appropriate clothing.

Shaw laughed as they entered the BEAR elevator together. “I’m surprised you can say ‘ _scrubbed clean_ ,’ without getting all…,” she was saying when Root suddenly realized she couldn’t. She pressed Shaw up against the elevator wall.

“I would love to scrub you…,” Root said, tiny little fires growing in light brown eyes.

In the seconds it took to say those words; Shaw looked around to see they were definitely not alone; and there was nothing she could say that would prevent Root from finishing that thought. Shaw lunged forward and held Root in place as she covered those speaking lips to stop the flow.

“And on that note,” Shaw said, as people giggled and exited before her, “… I will see you later.”

It took a second; and the doors were almost closed, but Root managed to complete her thought. “CLEAN!” she shouted.

Shaw bowed her head and let out a sigh in defeat.

“And don’t forget your follow-up visits,” Root added just before the door shut.

“You sick, Shaw?” Zoe Morgan asked, coming up behind her.

“I could be now,” Shaw said. “What are you doing here? This is not the home for wayward Fixers.”

“Listen, Shaw; we need to talk,” Zoe said, looking past her friend to make sure no one could hear them.

“No,” Shaw pointed out; “… I don’t need to talk at all.”

“I’ll take you to breakfast,” was how Zoe got her friend to agree to stop pulling away from her grip on her arm.

“Fine, but as soon as I’m done eating; I’m done listening,” Shaw felt it fair to share.

“That will be more than enough time,” Zoe said and Sameen didn’t care for the confident tone she used.

“Are you saying…?” Shaw tried, but Zoe was already opening the door to the cafeteria for Sameen to enter. “I already ate, you know,” Shaw said.

“A little something then,” Zoe said, trying to hurry her friend along to order something to eat.

“Fine; eggs, bacon, toast with a side of hash browns and turkey sausage and a fruit cup,” Shaw ordered.

“Coffee,” Zoe smiled to the waiter. “And please hurry,” she asked because she knew how to keep her guest happy.  
“Everyone okay?” Shaw asked as the cooks in the kitchen scurried to produce the order for their most favorite, and most feared, employee.

“She’s fine,” Zoe answered appropriately. “Although, I’m worried.”

Shaw purposely looked around in all directions. “Are we talking feelings? Did you ask me to come in here to talk about feelings?” Shaw asked horrified.

“Of course not!” Zoe said because she was smarter than that. She kept stalling until the cart with several plates was wheeled over and put in front of Sameen. She waited until a forkful of eggs was on its way to Sameen’s mouth before adding: “It’s just I’m concerned about Janine being with me. I mean, we have such a great time together and she’s delightful. But last night … came out of nowhere.”

Of everything that Zoe just referenced, one thing stood out. “ _Delightful_?” Shaw asked. “ _Delightful_ ,” she repeated, her head bobbing around as she tried that word on for size. “That’s a strong word. Well, you do have some unsavory colleagues.”

“Exactly!” Zoe said, grateful Sameen was getting her drift. “I can’t guarantee anything,” Zoe said, suddenly worrying about things that she never worried about before.

“Nobody can,” Shaw said.

“She thinks she can handle herself,” Zoe pointed out.

“Iknow,” she said through a mouthful of food.

“Are you really going to train her?” Zoe asked concerned.

“Are you kidding?” Shaw asked, swallowing her food. “I can’t let her acting like Robin to your crazy Batman. Of course I am.”

“Still, maybe I should…,” Zoe said and couldn’t say the words.

Now, Zoe was on one page and Sameen wasn’t even in the library. She lost some interest as soon as her mouth decided that these were some of the best hash browns she ever had. Her ears informed her that Zoe just offered to train Janine herself by suggesting – _‘maybe she should’_ do it. It would make her life easier if Zoe did it.

“Are you any good at it?” Shaw asked.

“I’m not proud, but I’m an expert at it,” Zoe said across the table. Of course she was; she never wanted a long term relationship.

“Then, do it,” Shaw said.

“Are you sure?” Zoe asked, thinking Shaw was agreeing rather quickly.

“It’s not easy, right? But if you feel you can handle it, then you should do it,” Shaw said. “I mean, she’ll put up a fight,” she added, thinking Janine would make a fuss about the switch in instructors, “… but don’t let her get to you.”

“You don’t think there’s any other resolution?” Zoe inquired.

“Did you see how she jumped right into that danger last night? No, there’s no other resolution,” Sameen affirmed and realized she just used air quotes.

Zoe sat back in her chair, not at all happy about Sameen’s conviction about her situation. “I don’t know, Shaw,” she said, because she wasn’t ready to break up.

“The sooner the better,” Shaw said and finished her meal.

Zoe let out a long sigh. The woman offering her this advice was oozing with confidence.

Maybe… just maybe… Shaw was right.

* * *

“Have you seen your boss?” Fusco asked, rushing into Janine’s office and hiding. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good; all better,” Janine lied because she still felt pain. “I’m not sure where Shaw is.”

“Well, I gotta wait here to talk to her,” Fusco said. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look like you’re okay?”

“Some pain,” Janine admitted.

“Better have Shaw look at that,” Fusco advised. “After I talk to her though.”

“Good idea,” Janine said – only lengthening the line of people waiting to speak to Sameen.


	54. Take a Number

Somewhere in between finishing her entire second breakfast and her third belch, Sameen gave thought to what just transpired with Zoe. She would have clarified it, but the Fixer had decided she needed to think over what her wise friend just suggested. No one cared more for Janine than Shaw; which is why Zoe even considered her advice at all.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Zoe said and rushed out before Shaw could ask her if they were clear on things.

Shaw’s concern was that Janine would be offended if she handed her training over to anyone else. “You see?” Sameen said to the surprised waiter clearing the dishes. “This is why I hate people!” she finished, getting up from her chair and stomping away.

* * *

Sameen should have followed her instincts and gone upstairs to Root, but she took the shortest path to her office to hide.

“I’m too busy to see anyone today,” she announced, rounding the entrance to Janine’s area to get to her office.

“Sure,” Janine said because that statement said ‘anyone’ – not her or Fusco.

“How are you feeling?” Sameen stopped to ask and then took it upon herself to look at her handiwork on the back of the woman’s skull. “I do nice work.”

“Yes, you do,” Janine said, feeling Sameen’s gentle touch as she inspected the stitches. “I feel fine.”

“They should dissolve, but we’ll keep an eye on them, okay?” the former MD instructed about the stitches.

“Sure,” Janine agreed.

“And _no_ working out with your girlfriend until they’re healed,” Shaw said and Janine took that as something very different. But Sameen didn’t want to be the messenger on that. “Oh, you know, I mean, if she suggests it or something.” With that, Shaw decided to cut her losses and leave. She walked right into Fusco.

* * *

“Geez, Maybelline,” he said as she slammed into him as they both were walking in/out of her office.

“Explain to me how you will _actually_ get a pension when you retire from the New York Police Department when you _actually_ spend most of your time here?” she snapped and pushed past him to get into her office.

“Very funny; we need to talk,” he said following her in.

“Why do I keep hearing that same sentence, over and over again?” Sameen wondered out loud.

“Listen, you gotta help me,” Fusco said now that Sameen was seated.

“And that’s _another_ sentence I don’t like,” Shaw said honestly.

“My… _girlfriend_ …,” he said slowly as if it would take Sameen a minute to figure out who that was; “… was with me last night.” He finished his sentence and sat back in his chair. He raised his eyebrows and looked at Shaw.

“Did you bring donuts?” Sameen asked, focused on the important things.

“I’m off them, remember,” Fusco pointed out.

“You are; I’m not,” Shaw pointed out.

“Would you focus here; my... _girlfriend_ …,” he repeated.

“I know who she is, Fusco; so stop saying it like it’s code,” Shaw barked.

“She was there; she saw all of us; and what happened. She’s asking questions,” he summed up.

“Yeah; she does that for a living; it’s an annoying habit. She’s very good at it,” Shaw said, looking on her desk for a snack.

“She wanted to know why I wasn’t worried about all those cameras,” he added.

“This is what you get for upgrading, Fusco, and dating women who actually graduated high school,” Shaw snipped.

“Very funny. Look, Shaw, you know what a good relationship takes; I don’t want to lie to her,” Fusco said sincerely. “I also don’t want her to get in any danger.”

“Let me see if I got this,” Shaw said and for a minute; Lionel actually thought she was trying to help. “You want to tell her you work with an all-seeing overlord that my mother sort of invented; my wife now sort of nurtures; an AI that helps the police out; but you don’t want to tell her you were off your diet for weeks?”

“She gets upset when I do that,” Lionel said, missing the point.

Sameen just stared, rolled her eyes, and looked away in succession. “Are we done here?”

“No, we’re not done. You haven’t answered me,” Lionel pointed out.

“Ask Root; she’s her _babysitter_ ,” Shaw said and then grimaced at using air quotes around the last word.

“Are you… _using_ air quotes; I thought you hated that?” Fusco asked, noticing the gesture.

“I do! I think it should be outlawed, but you people are making me nuts!” Shaw bellowed.

“I don’t think we can take all the credit,” said the man who was armed with a gun.

“Hello, NYPD? Could I report a _missing_ person? Yeah, one of your detectives! Doesn’t Joss have to keep an eye on you or something?” Shaw asked.

“She’s actually a little calmer these days since her and Tall, Dark, & Gloomy are going to yoga. That reminds me; I should change his name,” Fusco said – and he was serious.

“You have a _really_ busy day; don’t you?” Shaw mocked.

“So, do I or don’t I?” Fusco asked, getting back on track.

“Sure, Fusco; tell her. You don’t want secrets between you. Then, she will feel pressure to give you your official diagnosis instead of keeping that a secret!” Shaw decided.

“Are you sure?” Lionel asked because he knew his friend was quick to decide.

“What’s with you and the poor listening skills? I would ask Root,” Shaw repeated.

“I should have thought of that,” Lionel said, causing his friend to slap her forehead with her palm.

The detective was off to see the woman in charge of the Machine.

“Mom-my,” Shaw cried as she put her head down on the desk, begging for someone to wall up her office so no one could get in.

* * *

Zoe Morgan was so dumbfounded by Shaw’s suggestion that she had to leave the building and walk to think about this. She was practically talking to herself when John Reese saw her.

“You okay, there, Zoe?” John asked, azure eyes staring down at her.

“How reliable do you think Shaw is when you’re talking to her?” she asked, surprising him.

“Are you okay? I heard about last night,” John said, concerned for his friend who never appeared frazzled, except for right now.

“Shaw,” she repeated. “Do you trust her instincts?”

“Yes,” answered the man who had no idea what the topic was.

“I don’t get it,” Zoe admitted, still unsettled with Shaw’s advice.

“You know, I’m taking this yoga class with Joss that’s really helping me to relax,” John said to his agitated friend.

“John, any more relaxed; you’d flat line,” Zoe smiled to the man who was the epitome of calm.

“Joss says it’s helping,” John said because he trusted his girlfriend.

“Shaw’s got to be wrong,” Zoe said, still tossing things over in her head.

“Possibly; but you better be ready if you’re going to tell her,” John suggested.

“Yeah,” Zoe said, thinking she needed to take care of this.

* * *

When Fusco left her office; Shaw grabbed a piece of paper and wrote on it. Then, she taped the message to the front of Janine’s cubicle; where any person entering the area could see it.

“WARNING: ARMED AND DANGEROUS PERSON INSIDE. NOT AFRAID TO SHOOT THE NEXT PERSON WHO ENTERS! THIS MEANS YOU!!”

She felt certain it was to the point.

Sameen returned to her cubicle, ready for some peace and quiet. She looked down at her phone and saw the screensaver shot of Root holding Michael. The photo melted her immediately and distracted her into sweet oblivion.

That’s why she never heard Martine warn her girlfriend: “I don’t think she wants you to take that down.”

Ayala burst into Shaw’s office, laughing, at what she thought was a good joke. She made her sister jump out of her reverie.

“ _This_ is funny!” Ayala said, producing the piece of paper.

Shaw looked at the woman and then at the only other sane person in the room; pleading with Martine to say her sister had NOT just taken down her sign. “I warned her,” Martine offered.

“Did it say – please take one?” Shaw asked pointedly.

“You… were serious?” Ayala asked, wondering why her sister would issue such a warning. “Why would you do such a thing? Anyway, we wanted to invite you to lunch. That was amazing last night, by the way! Your assistant is some badass; jumping on that guy, trying to take him down. How is she? She’s not out there.”

Shaw had stood next to trains traveling through the underground tunnels that moved slower than her sister’s speech. “How’s that not talking going?” Shaw asked, but she was looking at Martine.

“She’s… trying,” Martine said weakly.

“You cost me a hundred bucks, by the way,” Shaw reminded her sister.

“That’s why I’m here,” Ayala explained. “I need the money to take you to lunch.”

Shaw looked at Martine with an expression that easily read: ‘What are you doing with this woman?’ “Thanks, but I’m going home for lunch,” Shaw smiled.

“Nice,” Ayala said and stood up… and put her hand out.

“You know when they ask you what you want for Christmas?” Shaw said, grabbing her wallet and taking out ten crisp ten dollar bills to pay off her debt.

“No, I’m Jewish,” Ayala reminded her sibling.

“I never once wrote sibling on my list,” Shaw continued, not giving up her dig simply because of a religious difference. “Not once,” she repeated handing her sister the money. Then, she looked over at Martine. “You should have asked me to get a money back guarantee, because… her not talking…,” she said, waving her finger in a circle at her sister, “… is not going to last.”

“Oh, you of little faith,” Ayala smiled and then added: “That’s from the _New_ Testament,” proving she knew her bible.

“I’ll give you two hundred to take her away,” Shaw pleaded with Martine, but no money was necessary. Martine pulled her girlfriend to go with her. “Nice job last night, Shaw,” she said as she parted.

* * *

Shaw looked around her office and wondered if she pushed the filling cabinet in front of her doorway, would it keep people out. Deciding it wouldn’t and that people would climb over it to get in; Shaw did the next best thing. She opened her top drawer, took out the box of cookies, and proceeded to hide under her desk. The space was cramped, but she didn’t care. With her chair pulled in to block her, no one would suspect she was there. “Peace,” she said, taking the first of many cookies out to enjoy.

“That’s a good question,” Root was commenting to Fusco when he arrived in her office to ask the same thing he had asked Sameen. “What did Shaw say?”

“She said to ask you and pointed out that lying isn’t good in a relationship,” Fusco reported.

Just the mention of her name and what she said was enough to make Root smile and drift off into thoughts of their morning. “That reminds me; it’s almost time for her follow-up,” she said, not thinking.

“Follow-up for what?” Fusco asked.

“Oh! Sorry. You were saying…?” Root asked.

Fusco repeated his question about whether or not it was a good idea to tell Iris about the Machine.

“Sameen makes a good point, Lionel; I would go with that,” Root said having thought it over.

“Okay, wish me luck,” Lionel said and then thanked his friend.

* * *

When Lionel headed off to take his girlfriend to lunch, Zoe had already asked Janine if she could talk.

Sitting across from her now in Janine’s office, Zoe poured her heart out.

“Listen, I know you worship the ground Shaw walks on, and I get that, but, I can’t agree with her on this one thing,” Zoe spewed forth as Janine tried to decipher what she was saying.

“Do you want to sit down?” Janine asked, but Zoe waved her hand no. “What are you in disagreement with her about?”

“Look, there’s no denying how dangerous last night was,” Zoe said, looking around to make sure no one heard. “And I thought I could prevent my work life interfering with us; but it’s obvious I can’t.”

None of this concerned the younger woman. What did concern her was any possible schism between Zoe and Shaw. “What can’t you agree on exactly?” she asked again.

“Shaw seemed to suggest that maybe… I should break up with you; that since I can’t protect you…,” Zoe was saying when the woman shot out of her seat.

“ _Shaw_ said _that_?” she yelled and now she caught Sameen’s attention.

“She asked me if I was any good at it and when I said I was, she said I should do it right away,” Zoe repeated back.

“You’re breaking up with me?” Janine asked – stunned.

“No! No! That’s what I came to tell you,” Zoe said, losing her footing in this conversation.

“What the fu…,” Shaw was saying under her breath, and under her desk, when she overheard the misquote. “I never said…,” she was saying and trying to get out from under her desk.

“So, you were thinking of breaking up with me, but Shaw suggested if first, so now you don’t want to?” asked the injured woman.

Sameen was pushing her chair out and getting ready to give them both a piece of her mind, when long legs caught her attention. She looked up to see Root sitting there in the other chair, out of sight.

Root slowly put her finger to her lips – signaling her wife to be quiet.


	55. The Perfect Antidote to a Tough Morning

Arriving seconds before Zoe and Janine, Root knew immediately where that munching was coming from. As stealth as Sameen believed she was being in her cookie indulgent escape, her low moaning gave her location away.  But when she heard Zoe misrepresent what she said to Janine, she emerged to defend herself; only to find her wife already there.  

Sameen put her hands out, palms up, in the other couple’s direction and looked at Root as if to say – ‘ _I did not say that!_ ’ Root’s tilted head and pursed lips was her signature sympathetic look. But along with that expression, came a raised finger to give it a minute.

As much as Sameen trusted her wife; she worried she didn’t know what an aggravating morning she already had. But, of course, Root knew that.

This is why she was giving the couple a chance to work it out for themselves.

* * *

“I’m very confused,” admitted Janine as she touched her already aching head.

“I think I was very cavalier about what it would be like to have someone in my life that I really care about,” Zoe explained, sitting down in a chair across from her girlfriend. “I was having such a wonderful time with you, that it was easy to put that out of my head. Then, last night happened, and I was quickly reminded that I can’t keep my professional life at bay all the time.” The reality of that made Zoe’s heart ache and she bowed her head from the pain tightening in her chest.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Janine said, taking Zoe’s hands. “Look who I hang out with! Danger follows my friends almost every day! I would never give them up because of that; and I’m not giving you up!”

It was a wonderful sentiment, spoken by the sweetest lips, but it didn’t ease Zoe’s mind much. That hesitation was easily discernible in her worried expression. “I would feel awful if anything happened to you,” she shared.

“As you should! But, look at how we handled last night. We make a good team,” Janine pointed out. She had a sneaky suspicious she had received help in subduing the man. Then, proving what Shaw had said about the woman’s stubbornness, Janine stood up tall. “I’m not letting you break up with me over something like this!”

“I didn’t want to…,” Zoe explained.

“But Shaw told you to?” Janine asked, getting back to the part that really upset her. “I’ve got to talk to her about her protectiveness!”

In the meantime, Shaw had waddled on her knees over to Root’s chair. This was good – because it was easier for Root to pull her wife’s head down into her lap to suppress the scream she saw bubbling in Sameen’s eyes. “There, there,” Root said, stroking Sameen’s dark locks that were pulled back into a ponytail. Sameen’s scream of – “WHAT!” was greatly reduced to a muffled yell. “Everybody loves my Sweetie,” Root cooed and soothed the ball of frustration that was slowly surrendering her desire to jump up.

“I have a special dinner planned,” Zoe said as she stood close to Janine.

“You do?” Janine asked back, playing with a strand of Zoe’s loose hair.

And then, of all the things people had uttered that day that nearly pushed Sameen over the edge, Zoe unknowingly issued the _coup de grâce_. “I asked Root if I could borrow their chef; Isabelle and she agreed!”

Now, Root knew that given Sameen’s impending reaction upon hearing that - needed extreme measures. She immediately pulled at Shaw’s jaw and lunged down at her lips, invading them with her tongue to calm any eruptions that was about to explode.

Proving she knew her boss better than most; Janine asked her girlfriend if she was absolutely certain that it was okay with Shaw that her private chef be at Zoe’s that evening. Zoe assured her that Root explained they were having dinner at Harold’s that night.

“I don’t know…,” Janine hesitated.

“You can ask her,” Zoe said, positive it was okay.

“I would like to make sure,” Janine replied slowly.

“Then ask her. If there’s any issue, I’m sure we can come up with Plan B,” Zoe assured her lover as she leaned in to kiss her.

“I better get back to work,” Janine said, her head a little light from that kiss.

“Well, _there’s_ a novel idea,” both of them heard someone say in the other office.

Zoe broke out in a smile to think Shaw had overheard them. She nodded her head for Janine to go as she waved goodbye.

* * *

Root had bent down to kiss her wife’s head. Shaw shot up afterwards though. “THAT’S where Isabelle is going?”

Janine appeared in the doorway, looking guilty for being part of a plan that annoyed Sameen.

“We have dinner at Harold and Grace’s for your official appointment as Genrika’s Godmother,” Root reminded her wife.

“That means you and I are busy; it doesn’t mean Isabelle gets to be farmed out,” Shaw pointed out. “Suppose we run out of something?”

“It was sweet of Zoe to think of it, but I’m sure we could do something else,” Janine immediately agreed.

“That’s another thing,” Shaw said to her assistant. “For a woman who’s known as…,” _and yes, Shaw raised her two hands and crooked her first two fingers when she said_ ; “… “The Fixer”… she sure messes a lot of things up.”

Root looked over at Janine, her eyes instructing her not to mention that gesture that her wife swore she hated.

“I thought she wanted to teach you some self-defense,” Shaw explained.

“But… you’re teaching me that,” Janine said and her voice sounded wounded, just like Shaw feared she would.

“No! I mean… yes! She cornered me at breakfast. To be truthful, after the first couple of bites, I wasn’t listening,” Shaw said truthfully; shrugging her shoulders and scrunching up her face.

“I knew there had to be a mix-up!” Janine said.

“Mix-up is this company’s slogan, I swear,” Shaw said.

“I’m taking Sameen home for lunch,” Root announced and gave one of her classic winks that came nowhere near a real one.

“We’re working on it,” Shaw said when she saw Janine’s expression trying to figure out what her wife was doing.

“Enjoy lunch,” Janine said cheerfully.

* * *

Root took Shaw’s arm and walked to the elevator. Suddenly, Shaw remembered something she wanted to do. “Hold on, one minute,” she said to her wife. She unlocked arms and rushed down the hallway. Bursting through the door as she usually did, she startled – not only Doctor Campbell, but the woman who sat on the couch.

“Sameen?” Iris said when Sameen stood in the doorway, staring at the woman as if she was surprised there was anyone there. She could almost see the thoughts register in her patient’s head as Sameen decided it might be possible that other people knew the woman was there.

“What? Oh, yeah,” Shaw said, refocusing and never once thinking she should apologize and just leave. “You and me,” she said, pointing at Iris. “After lunch. We gotta talk.”

Only after delivering her message, did Sameen then close the door.

It took Iris a second… or four… to stop staring at the door and turn back to her client who sat dumbfounded on the couch.

“That was… rude!” the woman said.

“I know,” Iris said, but she realized she was smiling from ear to ear. She cleared her throat to get her attention back to the matter at hand. “You were saying?” she asked, purposely removing the smile; and unable to remember what the last thing the woman said.

“Does that happen a lot?” the woman worried about people barging in.

“Sorry?” Iris asked, her mind still on her favorite visitor. “Oh, no; only with Shaw,” she smiled again.

* * *

The door on the elevator had no sooner closed, than Root moved in on the object of her desire.

“Things must be pretty stressful if you’re hiding under your desk,” Root noted.

“They won’t leave me alone,” Sameen whined, but it was justified.

“That must be so nerve-wracking,” Root cooed near her ear.

“You have no idea; they’re nuts!” Shaw assessed.

“I bet it makes you tense,” Root said, leading her wife exactly where she wanted her.

“It really does,” Shaw said, closing her eyes when she felt two hands slowly grasp her hips and pull her into Root. A slender leg pressed between hers, causing a sensation to immediately build in her core.

“I’ve got just the treatment,” Root whispered in Shaw’s ear.

* * *

Shaw rushed to her car, opening the door for her wife, and then rushing to the other side. The ride home was quick as Shaw weaved in and out of traffic.

The only thing that would slow them down was if Michael was awake, but Isabelle explained that she went down late for her nap and wasn’t due to wake up for another twenty minutes.

“Plenty of time for a quick dose,” Root thought out loud, confusing the chef, but enticing her wife.

“I’m not done with yooooou,” Shaw said to the woman who would be absent that evening, as her wife pulled her upstairs.

“Looks like someone’s not done with you!” Isabelle laughed as her favorite couple disappeared. She returned to the kitchen; checked the baby monitor that showed Michael asleep in her crib; and went back to preparing some of Shaw’s favorite meals.

Root pulled Sameen into their bedroom and closed the door. She leaned against, smiling giddily as she looked Sameen up and down.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to look at patients like that…,” Shaw said – a second before the buttons on her blouse went flying. “I like this shirt!” she said, looking down at the article of clothing that was missing all its buttons.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Root countered because her eyes were glued to the burgeoning breasts that Shaw’s low-cut bra seemed incapable on containing. She bent down and placed kisses on both of them; causing Sameen to throw back her head and expose her neck. It was a natural trail that Root traveled, first with kisses, then with grabbing her skin gently between her teeth.

The only thing that worked faster than Root’s mind; was Root’s hands when discarding clothes and undressing her wife.

“Do you remember where you were last time?” Shaw teased, thinking Root was getting into character.

There was no time for that. Root’s fingers ran up and down Sameen’s bare skin. She took in the softness of its surface; the hardness of the muscles underneath. “I will never forget my way there,” Root declared, easily demonstrating her commitment.

“Oh, God, Root…,” Sameen cried when gentle kisses bathed hot flesh and Root’s hands made putty out of everything she touched.

Root drew her head down and hands reclaimed her wife with a fierce yearning that aroused Sameen’s longing to a dizzying pitch. Then, Root slowly fulfilled that hunger with piercing, welling intensity until Shaw’s cry swept her away.

“Oh, God, I want this,” Shaw cried.

“Again?” Root smiled seductively.

“Yes,” Shaw replied, but it was more of a plea.


	56. Giving and Getting Support

Sameen emerged from the bedroom with a whole different attitude – _and_ in new attire. Now, instead of the button down blouse; she wore a tight fitting black t-shirt. Something that - did not - go unnoticed by her wife. “God, I love you in that shirt,” Root said.

“I thought you loved me - _out_ \- of this shirt,” Sameen teased, trying to one-up her wife’s coyness.

“You know; I would really like to put that to a test later,” Root answered. “To be sure, of course.”

They proceeded to the kitchen where Michael was awake and happy to see them.

“She’s been a delight,” Isabelle said and only momentarily noticed the change of attire.

“Don’t try to distract me with compliments about my daughter,” Shaw said as she sat down to lunch. “What is this?” she asked, distracting herself.

“Steak sandwich with peppers, onions and that sauce you like,” Isabelle smiled and slowly pushed the plate over closer to Sameen.

“I’m annoyed at you two,” Shaw said, but her eyes were on the delicious looking sandwich. “Is that…?”

“The cheese you like? Yes, I melted it on the roll first. The way you like it,” Isabelle said.

Root smiled at the culinary foreplay taking place and was grateful her chef never became a drug dealer because her enticement skills were excellent.

The woman simply knew nothing eased Sameen’s grumpiness down like food. Oh, and obviously great sex, because the woman was incredibly calm.

“It’s just … we have this dinner… and God knows what the food will be. Probably some kind of weird dish from God knows where,” Shaw said before taking a bite of the delicacy known as a cheese-steak sandwich. “Ohgawddizizsogud,” Shaw all but moaned; closing her eyes more than her mouth.

Root smiled devilishly and told her wife that was the second time she heard those words that day.

“WOOT!” Shaw said, her mouth full, her eyes darting over to their daughter who sat in the highchair giggling.

“Mommy is funny, isn’t she?” Root asked their daughter as she gave her some pureed plums. The purple food tasted good and Michael pushed it around with her tongue.

“I can call Mr. Finch if you want me to,” Isabelle suggested to Root.

“I’m sure Harold and Grace know… we… have specific tastes in cuisine,” Root said and by ‘we’, everyone present knew who she meant.

Michael let out a scream because Root had not given her the next spoonful. “I think someone has your appetite,” Root smiled as she presented the next helping.

“Yougottatrydis,” Shaw said, using the back of her hand to keep the food in her mouth.

Root looked over at Isabelle wide-eyed as she slipped a napkin over to her wife.

As was her style, Sameen moaned her way through the rest of the sandwich. “Root, you should have one,” she suggested, but Root said she was very content with her grilled chicken salad that Isabelle made fresh for her.

“I’ll feed her,” Shaw said and took over the duties.

Michael squealed with delight because Sameen always made eating entertaining.

Holding the spoon up high, Shaw began her narrative as she moved in closer. “Here’s Uncle Lionel, rushing to catch some bad guys. But wait? What’s this? Mommy is going to help him? Here she comes, running ahead of your winded Uncle and zoom…..,” she said, putting the spoon into Michael’s waiting mouth. “She caught the bad guy!’

Michael wasn’t sure what she was saying, but she liked the way her mother spoke when she told these stories. She giggled, allowing most of the food to dribble out.

“Man, you are messy,” Shaw complained and then saw the bottom lip start to turn up at the insult. “No, no, it’s okay. Messy is good. Messy is fine,” Shaw backpedaled. The baby looked at Root who assured her it was and then she smiled. And then, without warning, she sneezed – showering Sameen with bits of pureed plums. Tiny specks of purple dotted Sameen’s face and hair. Michael waited to see what her mother would do, but when Sameen laughed, and Root laughed, so did the baby.

Lunch with mommies was fun.

* * *

_‘Food alert_!’ Shadow barked to Bear when she saw what was going on.

‘ _What is it_?’ Bear asked, because he was fussy about what he ate.

‘ _The purple stuff_.’ Shadow accurately reported. ‘ _And… some steak on her t-shirt_.’

‘ _Jackpot. Okay, you know what to do_ ,’ Bear said and the two conniving canines got into position.

* * *

Sameen thanked Isabelle for the second sandwich to take back with her. “In case you get hungry,” the chef suggested which was akin to saying – ‘in case you feel like breathing later.’ Root picked up Michael and got her ready to come back with them.

“What are you making tonight?” Shaw felt the need to ask clearly in touch with her jealousy at Zoe borrowing her chef.

“Chicken francaise,” Isabelle said and listed off the side dishes, trying to make them sound as drab as possible. “But I have a lot of dishes in the fridge in case you need something when you come home,” she assured Sameen.

“Like what?” Shaw asked as if she didn’t eat everything this woman cooked.

“More steak, brisket, onion-crusted potatoes…,” was as far as she got down the long list when the smile appeared.

“Good, I’ll try to have _something_ ,” Shaw said and not one breathing thing in the house doubted she’d eat all of it.

* * *

Then, Sameen went into the entry way where she waited for her wife and daughter and the dogs put their plan into place. Shadow went behind her, Bear greeted her by jumping up on her – and the rest was … puppy’s play. Sameen fell over Shadow’s back and gently down onto the floor. Then, both dogs attacked – licking her face, her hair and even the shirt that bore steak with onion and pepper stains.

“STOP!” Shaw tried, but there was no stopping the canine love fest. “I will kill you both!” she threatened, but the plum bits were plentiful and good tasting.

By the time Root reappeared with Michael, Sameen had been wiped clean of any food. She also looked like she’d been attacked by … well; Root wasn’t quite sure what could pull Sameen’s ponytail out and stretch her t-shirt. “Did you…fall?” Root asked because when she got there, the two dogs were sitting obediently on the other side of the room, both wearing their best imitation of innocent.

Bear was all but whistling as the two of them cast their eyes to the ceiling.

“I need a shower,” Shaw grumbled because she was covered in dog slime. “Then, I’m going to…,” she started to say as she looked over at the culprits.

One loud scream from Michael put an end to any threat.

‘ _Thanks, Kid_ ,’ Bear barked at her.

Root even went to kiss the slobbered Sameen, but Shaw begged her off. “God knows what they have,” she tried to insult her attackers, but they were too busy licking their lips.

Twenty minutes later, Shaw reappeared, showered and wearing her third outfit of the day.

* * *

“What’s on your agenda this afternoon?” Root asked Sameen as they returned to the BEAR building.

“I’m going to help Doctor Campbell get the Nobel Prize in Crazies,” Sameen answered bluntly.

“How sweet,” Root said as if that made total sense. “Don’t forget, we have dinner at Harold’s tonight.”

Sameen’s shoulders slumped downward as she got off the elevator after kissing Michael and Root goodbye. “As if this day couldn’t get worse,” she muttered, but in fact, she looked like a different person upon her return.

“Well, you look … human,” John said, because he’d seen Shaw leaving before.

“It happens,” Shaw retorted. “You need me?”

“I was wondering what you would say about introducing a class internally on yoga?” Reese asked, already knowing the answer.

Never one to mince words or not have an answer, Shaw responded immediately with; “I would think you need serious help for even suggesting such a stupid thing.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Reese said. “First class tomorrow,” he informed her and started to walk away.

“Well, I’ll be there as soon as I find my ice shoes because HELL WILL HAVE TO FREEZE OVER!” she shouted as he walked down the hallway. She could feel him smiling.

“Yoga?” Janine said, coming out of her office. She noticed the change of outfit and demeanor immediately.

Shaw shook her head. “Does _everyone_ know _everything_ before I do?”

“Sometimes,” Janine answered truthfully.

“Listen; make sure Zoe Morgan doesn’t break my chef. I want her back tomorrow…,” Shaw said, not liking the sharing thing one bit. “…Just like you found her.”

“We can always order in,” Janine reminded her boss.

“No, I’m sharing. I do not like it, but I’m sharing,” Shaw confessed honestly, pulling her pants up by the belt as if reassuring herself she’d manage.

“If you’re sure,” Janine said and then added; “By the way; you and I need to talk.”

“ _No_ , we don’t,” Shaw assured her, but was met with blue eyes wearing an expression of steely determination. “About what?” she relinquished.

“How to talk to Zoe,” Janine explained.

“I _know_ how to talk to her,” Shaw countered.

“So she understands you,” Janine highlighted.

“I don’t _care_ if she understands me,” Shaw retorted.

“Yes, you do; because I don’t want a repeat of this morning. Damn near gave me a heart attack, the two of you communicating like that!” Janine said, her hands placed firmly on her hips now.

“Did you just say – damn?” Shaw asked, because the woman rarely let anything like that slip.

Almost blushing, the woman replied; “That’s how badasses talk… sometimes.”

Sameen already had her next meeting planned out and had no time for this. “Can I go now?” she asked, as the petite woman stood in her way.

“Yes,” Janine said and moved to allow Shaw to walk by. “Three o’clock, Shaw,” Janine decided.

“ _The inmates… are running the asylum. I warned her this would happen_ ,” Shaw muttered as she continued on her way.

* * *

With that, she walked down the hallway, where much to no one’s surprise; Iris was waiting for her. The therapist’s afternoon schedule of workshops had been rearranged just so she had time for her favorite client.

Sameen walked in, after passing the secretary who was trying to give her permission to do so.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Iris said, a little therapist humor which Sameen didn’t expect, nor get.

“I told you I was coming back. You remember that, right?” Shaw asked, worried about the woman’s recall ability.

“Yes, yes I do,” Iris smiled, taking her seat across from the couch. Depending on the subject, she knew it could take anywhere from a minute to practically the entire session before Shaw took a seat.

Sameen watched the therapist place her notebook and pen down on the table next to her. Obviously, the woman misunderstood the purpose of the meeting. “You won’t need that,” Sameen informed her as she sat down. “On second thought, you might need it for the list I’m going to give you.”

“Oh?” Iris said, wondering what the list might be.

“There’s a lot of them,” Shaw updated her. “In fact, I might be able to do it alphabetically, if that helps?”

“A list of?” Iris asked gently.

“The people you need to see? In order to help them? The ones who don’t know they need help?” Shaw patiently informed her.

“Ooh,” Iris replied, thinking this was going to be a very interesting session. “What do they need help with?”

“Oh, Doc;” Shaw said and decided she could do this lying down, so she threw her feet up on the couch and placed her head on the pillow. “Where do I even begin?”

And with that, Iris slowly reached over and took her notebook and pen and placed it in her lap; ready to take notes.

“No,” Shaw said, picking up her head after giving it some thought; “… I’ll do it on a scale of the most annoying ones,” she reflected.

And with that, she put her head back down so she could start to help Iris Campbell do her job.

It was, Shaw decided, the least she could do when there were so many people the therapist needed to see.


	57. Deep in Thought

A _very_ nervous Harold Finch knocked on his adopted niece’s office door and poked his head in when she said to enter.  
He smiled down at the baby who sat content on her mother’s desk in her baby seat. “Hello!” he greeted Michael, because the man was not used to interacting with babies. Michael looked up at him and then at her mother. “Yes, well I was wondering if we should invite Sameen’s mother to the dinner tonight?” he asked Root.

“That would be lovely; thanks, Harry,” Root said. She only used his uncle title on occasion; feeling more like a peer than a niece.

“And the food?” he asked because Grace specifically asked him to make sure he did. “Any dietary restrictions?”

“Oh, God, yes! Meat; preferably beef; specifically steak. Nothing vegan, and not too much green,” Root summarized. “And plenty of napkins.”

“Oh! I was inquiring about Sameen’s… mother,” Harold pointed out.

Root explained the things that should be avoided and Harold wrote it all down. After he left, Root decided she should help her wife pick out an appropriate gift for Genrika. It’s not every day you become someone’s official Godmother.

* * *

The soon to be designated woman was a little busy at the moment – helping the resident shrink prepare a plan to help the many in need on a mass scale.

“Some days, Doc,” Shaw lamented as she pushed her elbow into the leather couch to find the right spot; “… I swear they take numbers outside my office.”

“They must see you as a positive resource,” Iris noted.

Sameen had a different take. “They see me as… easy!” she finally chose the word.

“Easy?” Iris asked and wrote that word down on the paper.

“Ever since you got me in touch with all my feelings,” Sameen mocked and her arms flailed in the air when she said ‘all’; “… people want to come in and tell me theirs. Although, I tell them I don’t want to talk about feelings, so they disguise it as the latest drama in their lives.”

“I see,” Iris said… waiting.

“I’m knee deep in the latest romance out there and I’m being bossed by both of them. You know, that Zoe Morgan thinks she’s clever; taking me to breakfast and slipping in how she’s worried about her girlfriend being a part of her dangerous lifestyle! Really? You’re a fixer for God’s sake. Most of your clientele is dangerous. Did she think they’d back off after clocking out at 5? That thought process alone is proof she’s insane. You could do years of therapy on that one,” Shaw huffed.

“How is Janine feeling?” Iris interjected a personal question.

“She’s another one! According to her; she’s fine, but she has ten stitches in that thick skull of hers. Take it from someone who has stitched her own wounds, Doc; that does not feel good. You got to take it easy and let it heal. And… she thinks she subdued that guy, you know...?” Shaw said and then looked up and back at Iris to make sure she knew Shaw knew she was there.

“Yes,” Iris said – answering all those questions.

“I wanted to tell her she didn’t tip the bastard over; but she was excited and thought she did; I didn’t have the heart to tell her, you know?” Shaw explained. “Now, she’s got it in her head that she’s a badass. She’s being extremely bossy, too. Can’t you write notes for people that tell _other_ people to leave them alone?” Shaw asked, but didn’t bother to wait for the answer. “Can you dispense drugs? Because my sister needs something to slow her tongue down. I mean, just something that would keep her focused… for like two seconds. I think my mother dropped her on her head and she doesn’t want to admit it.”

While Sameen believed she was reporting on the others and trusted that, when she heard Iris writing, it was about them; in fact, Iris was writing – ‘ _seems very conflicted_ ’ under Sameen’s name.

“You could probably just see her once a month because if she started talking, I doubt you’d have time for any other clients,” Shaw summarized. “And there should be some kind of support group for people like poor Martine, too,” she added. “Or a prayer group,” she laughed.

Iris noted that Shaw still had her sense of humor.

“And can we please talk about the NYPD detective that shall remain nameless?” Shaw said, covering her face with her hands out of exasperation.

She couldn’t see it, but Iris’s whole expression changed. Her eyebrows raised and the tiniest smile appeared. “Of course,” she said and got more comfortable in her chair. If Sameen really was talking about the people who annoyed her in order of their intensity, she was glad her boyfriend was not at the top.

“For a man with a heart of gold, he sure gets right under my skin! I mean, the others might not know me as well, but he should know – I don’t _do_ personal predicaments,” Shaw was explaining when she sort of forgot where she was. “ _Do I tell her_? _Don’t I tell her_? How do I know what he should tell his girlfriend? I sent him to Root. She’s the entity’s Godmother. Speaking of which; I’m going to become the Kid’s Godmother today,” she segued.

Now, of course, Iris caught what Sameen had just blurted out and wrote it down. She was very interested in what exactly was Fusco asking Sameen if he should share with her. But Iris was a real professional; and her first duty was to the woman laying on her couch – spilling her inner most thoughts.

“That’s wonderful,” Iris said and made a note of it. “I’m sure Genrika is very happy with that.”

“Yeah, I think there was some conflict about wanting us to adopt her, but Grace is doing a really good job. I guess Harold is to, although I find him… awkward. This is going to sound terrible to say about him; but I have this gut feeling that if Root was in harm’s way; he wouldn’t put himself between her and a stray bullet,” Sameen said – having given that some thought and then, out of respect for Root, burying it somewhere deep. “Anyway, it seems that a test of whether or not I’m worthy to be Godmother will be to eat whatever foreign food they come up with. I’ve seen that man eat…,” Sameen was about to share, but took a second out to shudder at the thought, “… tofu!”

Iris bit her lip not to chuckle at the reaction the woman had to the food.

“Why do you think these people all seek you out?” Iris came back to the question.

“I don’t know,” Shaw whined and decided to close her eyes to think about what the possible reason might be. “It doesn’t make sense; they know most days, I’m armed. What would possess you to talk to someone who does not care? Whose whole body language says – ‘ _Get away from me’_?”

“Is it possible that you are giving them any… _other_ message?” Iris wondered.

“Nope! I’m pretty sure the look of disdain on my face conveys the right message,” Shaw countered.

“Can you think of any reason why you would want to talk to someone who did not want to talk to you?” Iris tried.

“Because I want to annoy them to death?” Shaw quipped.

Iris knew she’d have to keep chipping away at Sameen’s sarcastic responses to get at the truth. “Can you imagine that perhaps that person’s opinion really matters to you?” she slyly suggested.

“No one’s opinion matters to me except Root; no offense, Doc,” Shaw responded.

“None taken,” Iris assured her, because she didn’t believe that statement to be one hundred percent accurate. Iris knew for a fact, Sameen cared a great deal about what her close friends thought. “If you are giving them every clear indication that you don’t care; why do people continue to seek you out? Do you think?”

Shaw was getting a little frustrated with her therapist. _That_ was the reason she was here – to help her get to the people that needed the most help. She didn’t mind consulting with Iris on this list, but she had to pull some of the weight.

“Look, Doc; you have the degrees in head shrinking,” Shaw pointed out.

“We don’t use that term,” Iris said because it actually was one of her rare pet peeves.

“O..kay,” Shaw sighed, “You have the degrees hanging up on the wall. Surely, they taught you about this. Isn’t there an _‘Annoying Personality Disorder_ ’ or something? Can’t you just talk to them and find out?” All of these questions seemed quite reasonable to Sameen. “Even if I applied a diagnosis to them, you would still need to talk to them to help them.”

“You would like me to speak to each of these people and ask them why they are annoying you?” Iris asked calmly to clarify.

“I’m pretty sure they’re annoying everyone; not just me,” Shaw pointed out, but she was getting sleepy from this merry-go-round of questions. “I’ve given this some thought, Doc,” she said and Iris had no doubt she had.

“Yes?” Iris prompted, her pen ready to write down anything Sameen said.

“Group therapy,” Shaw said and covered her eyes with her arm now. “You get them all together in a group; teach them some coping skills so they don’t have to come to me. Yeah, that would work.”

Iris noticed that Sameen’s speech was starting to slow down. Her time with a conscious patient was limited.

“Are you finding any of this stressful, Sameen?” she asked because perhaps it was Shaw who needed some help in coping with people seeking her out.

“Are you kidding me? Of course! All of it,” Shaw answered.

“And what do you do with that stress?” Iris wondered because she was concerned about Sameen.

“Root plays dress-up,” Shaw shared because after a busy morning; a large lunch; and draining friends; she was, quite simply, exhausted.

“Dress up?” Iris heard herself ask – just to make sure she understood.

“She stole a white coat from the hospital. Root loves to play doctor,” Sameen smiled and would have laughed, but she was too far gone. “I love when Root plays…” was the last thing she said.

Iris sat there – amazed at how much the woman who thought she was reporting on everyone else; actually was revealing more about herself. It occurred to the therapist that – the more Sameen tried to push people away; the more people were attracted to her. Iris would have to peel that back and see what was really going on underneath.

She was almost certain; Sameen was _not_ going to like the answer.

* * *

Azar was honored to be invited to Harold and Grace’s for dinner. She immediately set out to get something for her granddaughter and her daughter. She went to her bedroom and to the safe that she allowed to be burglarized a few weeks before in order to catch thieves. She had to look in the back for the tiny box, but she finally found it. Opening it up, she looked down at the gold cross; the very one that her daughter wore on her confirmation day. Her fingers rubbed the design in the 18K; the craftsmanship clearly indicating it was made in the Middle East. Azar held it tightly in her hand and the day flashed back to her as clear as day.

_A package had arrived for a young Sameen the day of her First Holy Communion. All the children in her class had been preparing for the Catholic ceremonial second rite of passage. Sameen’s father placed the gold cross around her neck that day. He whispered to his daughter; “This is a gift from someone who loves you very much.” He meant her mother who was in hiding; she thought he was talking about himself._

_Three months later; he was dead._

_Sameen went into a fugue state; shutting down from the world and her emotions. She yanked the jewelry off her neck and threw it away. It should have been swept away when the cleaners came to clean up the glass and debris from the car accident. But a message was sent and the cross was retrieved; only to be returned to the woman who purchased it – who knew she could not return to her daughter in order to keep her safe._

Now, as Azar looked at the cross in her hand, she gave thanks for having a second chance with Sameen.

* * *

 

Iris wrote her notes quietly as her client slept peacefully on the couch. Sameen’s innate sense of danger woke her up with a start some time later.

“What? What time is it?” Sameen asked, never once thinking to ask how she wound up on her therapist’s couch for a nap.

“It’s two fifty eight,” Iris said of the time.

“Oh geez; I gotta go. Did we …?” Shaw asked and meant – did we get everything settled so you can go do your job?

Then, Iris uttered the phrase that only proved to Shaw that she missed the point completely.

“I’d like to see you again – soon – to talk more about this,” the therapist said with the most pleasant expression on her face.

“Me?” Shaw asked, thinking the woman should really be out there signing people up.

“Yes,” Iris confirmed.

Maybe she fell asleep before making her point perfectly clear. “Okay, sure. We can go over this… _again_ ,” Shaw said with little patience.

“Good,” Iris smiled and suggested the next afternoon.

“I better go,” Shaw said and jumped up. “Ms. Badass wants to see me at three.”

“Do you want one of those notes that suggest they go easy on you?” Iris gently teased of Shaw’s previous proposal.

Shaw looked at her seriously as she considered it. “If it weren’t for the fact that I can’t trust she’d come down here to you, I would.”

The signature eye roll followed as Shaw walked back down to her three o’clock meeting.


	58. Crossed Lines

It took Shaw a couple of minutes as she walked back to her office, but she eventually realized that the session with Iris hadn’t worked out _quite_ as she planned it. In fact, she was beginning to suspect Iris had missed the whole point. Why would she want to see Sameen the next day when she made it perfectly clear, there was a boatload of people to analyze?

“Good, you’re here,” Janine said, when Shaw showed up at 3 o’clock on the dot.

“Have you received a text?” Shaw wondered out loud.

“A text? From whom?” Janine asked.

“Doc?” Shaw asked, trying to give Iris the benefit of the large doubt that was looming in her brain.

“Was I supposed to?” Janine asked.

“Maybe you’re lower on the list than I thought,” Shaw murmured.

“O…kay,” Janine replied, knowing her boss was distracted about something. “Let’s talk.”

“Maybe she is doing them alphabetically,” Shaw said under her breath.

Janine followed her boss into the inner office and sat down in the chair across from her.

“Shaw, I know you have the very best of intentions and you’re a good friend, but Zoe isn’t accustomed to your way of communicating,” Janine outlined because she had written her thoughts down on paper. With bullet points. And made two copies, in case Sameen wanted her own list.

“What, _English_ isn’t her native tongue?” Shaw quipped.

Janine pursed her lips and blue eyes smiled back at Shaw. “That’s not it; she really respects your opinion. And, she’s worried about being in a relationship. You know, because of the nature of her business. She can handle herself, but she’s worried I can’t handle myself. Well, I think I proved that I can last night,” Janine said confidently.

“Yeah, about that…,” Shaw said, remembering what happened. “Didn’t I tell you that you and I were going to talk about that?” Shaw asked, remembering she was the first to say they were going to discuss what happened. Now, she found herself showing up at Janine’s appointed time.

“I wasn’t scared, Shaw,” Janine felt it important to point out.

“Wait, what? You weren’t?” Sameen asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

“No,” Janine said, because she was acting on instinct she thought.

“Well, you should have been!” Shaw barked and surprised her. “That was a dangerous situation!”

“But, you would have done that same thing,” Janine pointed out.

“Would _now_ be a good time to point out that I am a formally trained operative with marine combat experience…,” Shaw said sarcastically, because this was exactly the type of insanity she was trying to explain to the therapist moments before.

“But… I…,” Janine was trying to explain when her boss cut her off.

“But you… are good at over reacting and jumping the gun!” Shaw snapped.

Those words came out like that because Sameen was truly worried the woman would get herself hurt if she thought she could handle any situation that arose. But while she was trying to point out how risky it was; her words managed to hurt Janine more than the ten stitches in her head. The woman was, in a word, wounded.

“I… just meant … I was trying to be… more like you,” Janine said, but could hardly get the words out, her chest hurt so much.

“What?” Shaw said, but the question was really for herself after hearing what her mouth just uttered.

“I… get it,” Janine said, standing up. It was impossible for those light blue eyes not to reflect the water building up. “Excuse me,” she said, and rushed out of the office.

Now, it was her boss who was stunned. “What the _hell_ just happened?” Shaw tried to ask, but her brain was already answering that question for her. “Dammit! Janine!” she called and stomped to the exit, but when she looked up and down the hallway, the woman was gone. “Sonova bitch!”

Shaw grabbed her phone and dialed the runaway. It went to voicemail. “Dammit!” she said and dialed Zoe’s number. _Voicemail_. “How does that woman expect to do business if her phone’s going to voicemail?!” she demanded to know. Shaw shoved her phone back in her pocket and decided she was NOT going to go looking for this woman. “Where the hell is that sandwich?” she huffed as she went to look for the second one Isabelle packed. She grabbed her bag and pulled it out. “I’m _not_ going to run after her,” Shaw said a she ripped open the end of the wrapper and spit it out. “She just needs a few minutes to calm down…,” she said and bit off a huge bite of the cheese steak delicacy. “She just pooved mah point!” the sub-munching woman stated as she used the back of her hand to keep the steak from falling out. “I am not going,” Shaw repeated when she was halfway done and there was no sign of Janine. She pulled the sandwich away from her mouth and looked at it. Not only was her assistant AWOL; the appealing flavor of the meal was gone.

Then, a flickering thought of WWRD flashed through her mind. “Sonova bitch!” Shaw said because Root would go find the injured party.

Shaw threw the sandwich down, disgusted that her conscience actually could make it taste bland. Someone overreacting was one thing; someone overreacting and taking away from her enjoying her food was quite a different thing! Shaw emerged from the cubicle like a woman on a mission.

She decided that if someone was crying uncontrollably, they’d go to the ladies room.

Sameen marched down the hallway to the restroom and swung the door wide open, startling the occupants inside. She stared at them, and then heard the soft muffled sobbing in the last stall. The women at the sinks backed up as Sameen entered and stomped past them. Her head and body bobbed as she tried to figure out how to be civil and not rip the door off.

“Hey, you okay in there?” she asked and then smiled back at the women who stared. No answer. Sameen drew a deep breath. “You… want… to… _talk_ about it?” Sameen asked and cringed at the thought that the answer might be yes. But there was no answer; just more soft crying.

“Oh for… Look, sorry that it came out all wrong,” Shaw said, in a softer tone. So soft, in fact, that no one really could hear her.

An offer to talk and an apology was all that Shaw packed for this dreaded meeting. Then, she used the only other skill she felt was needed for this standoff negotiation. Muscle.

She pounded on the door with her fist and demanded that Janine come out. “Don’t make me come in there!”

The bystanders jumped, but didn’t move; frozen as they watched this play out. The occupant sobbed even louder now that she was being threatened to come out! The lock slowly moved and the door slowly opened, and out stepped a very red and swollen eyed woman – who Shaw had never seen in her life. Sameen stared at her, as if she had no idea where she just came from! She pulled the woman by her arm and looked behind her in the stall.

“Was there _anyone_ else in there?” Shaw asked. The woman shook her head no, “Who are you?” Shaw asked, totally confused.

Through halted sobs, the woman told her; “Fel-ic-i-a.” The crying woman now wore an expression of terror. People stared at Sameen and wondered what she was going to do.

“No one else was in there?” Shaw asked, wondering where the hell her assistant could be.

“No,” the woman said and her lip quivered uncontrollably.

Shaw wanted to walk out and throttle the assistant who just caused this scene and sent her good intentions astray; but there was a small crowd of women in the room – staring at her.

“Well, Fel-ic-i-a,” Shaw started and tried to control her tone to sound civil: “… we… uhm… we here…(cough) at BEAR, take… you know, a _deep_ interest… yeah, that’s right,” the Shaw communication train started, gaining speed … “….in our staff, right? And _teamwork_ … well, you all know, teamwork is paramount, right?” Shaw spewed to the gathering of bathroom-destined women staring at her. “And if one… any one of you… is hurting,” Shaw said, saying the first thing that came into her head, “… we all hurt. That’s right! Yes, we all hurt,” she said, because that seemed to make sense. “So, buck up!” she said, patting the woman on both sides of her shoulders. “Get back out there and… do whatever it is you do…,” Shaw instructed. “And … just know we’re all behind you!”

“Really?” the woman said, because it did help to know someone cared.

There was only a slight hesitation, but Sameen knew what the answer was; “Ye..esss,” she confirmed. And then like the proverbial gum stuck to you shoe, Sameen tried to get out of the room by adding: “In fact, Reese is having yoga classes that you all might want to go to and… you know, learn to calm down,” she said, realizing she had no idea what yoga classes were about.

“Thank you so much!” the woman said and grabbed a stiff bodied Sameen. “I love working here!” she said, and the women broke out in thunderous applause.

“To think they care that much about us,” one said to the other as Shaw made her hasty retreat out of there. “I’m going to that class!”

Sameen moved through the crowd, practically removing the women’s hands that patted her arm or back to thank you her being such a caring staff member. It was exactly the opposite of what Shaw wanted.

“She scares some people, but I think they just need to get to know her,” one woman said and Sameen tried to argue, but the crowd had dispersed.

“I should have just killed her when I had the chance,” Shaw said, of her trusty assistant. She pulled her phone out, dialed Janine again, but there was no answer. “Thinks she can handle danger. Yeah? Well, she better be ready for me because I am going to …..!” The only thing that interrupted her rant was she remembered her half eaten sandwich. She marched back into her office, picked up the delicious food and bit into it; desperately hoping that her attempt to right her wrong would clear her conscience and make the flavor return.

But it didn’t.

“Oh! Come on!” Shaw barked when she couldn’t enjoy her meal. She threw the sandwich down and grabbed her phone, smearing the glass with her sauce laden fingers. “I NEED YOU!” she texted and then back erased that. She wasn’t going to bother Root with all of this nonsense. She was going to settle it; once and for all.

She paced the confines of her office. Apparently, even Iris Campbell thought these people were too much or she would have started to deal with them immediately! So, Shaw was going to take matters into her own hands and do it her way.

In other words; someone was about to get hurt.


	59. Lesson Learned

Sameen emerged from her office and looked up and down the hallway. If Janine hadn’t gone to the rest room, she’d have to search somewhere else. “I’m shooting her with one of those trackers,” the former operative swore as she began her search. Then, she remembered what she had at her access. Google on steroids, she thought. She went to her computer; accessed the Machine and asked where Janine was. A map with the floor plan of BEAR appeared with the pulsating blue dot. “You _better_ be ready,” Shaw said as she downloaded the map. She had no idea where this place was.

A couple of floors down and through a back stairway, Sameen found her target. It was an old locker room that was abandoned when the new gym was built on another floor. Through the old wooden door, she heard her assistant talking to herself.

“She thinks I overreact? Jump the gun? I bet I could use a gun! I can be ready,” the insulted woman cheered herself on.

“Oh, brother!” Sameen said softly and rolled her eyes. That’s when she saw that there were pipes overhead; ones that went across the ceiling and over the room her ranting assistant was in. While Janine continued to talk to herself in what she thought was a very private setting; her boss was about to … you guessed it; drop in.

Literally.

In an attempt to teach the woman a lesson in how danger could befall a person without warning; Shaw carefully scaled the vertical pipe until she was able to walk along the horizontal ones overhead. Balancing on the cylinder was a piece of cake as she moved silently closer to Janine who was pacing back and forth.

The younger woman had discovered the vacant area months before and had, on occasion, used it as her getaway place when she was having a day where she needed to think things through. Today was definitely one of those days. Her boss’ words had stung and she fled in an attempt to save face. It didn’t take her long to figure out that the reason Sameen’s words hurt so much was… because of the fact - they were true. So, Janine set out, not to disprove her boss, but rather figure out a way to convince Sameen she could learn.

Heights never bothered the former operative; which would explain how she so quietly and gingerly moved into position.

“I may not have her brute strength,” Janine was saying softly as she grabbed her pocketbook. “But I’ve got this!”

She had no sooner uttered those words when Sameen saw it fit to jump down in front of her. The plan was to give the woman the scare and hold onto her so she wouldn’t fall over. But things didn’t go as planned! Shaw jumped and landed off center, twisting around and falling over at her waist. This meant, Janine could not tell who just dropped out of the air in front of her. But – she knew what to do. She reached forward and applied the concealed Taser to the assailant.

Shaw worried for a millisecond that she might have twisted her ankle and was glad when she felt no pain there. But, suddenly, a hot searing throb erupted in her buttock. She then considered that she might have broken a bone – but the painful feeling was all too familiar. The problem was, her wife wasn’t on the other end of it. Shaw shot up straight, as Janine screamed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” both women asked each other.

Although Janine hadn’t pressed down hard, the tazer had done its job and stung Sameen.

“You… you… TAZED ME?” Shaw barked, but her face was confused because part of her was impressed.

“I’m so sorry! How did you find me? Where did you come from?” the woman asked, looking up at the overhead tubing. Then, she realized that Shaw had to have climbed up there on purpose. “Were you… scaring me on purpose?” the woman asked just as Sameen’s face registered the pain threshold. “What were you thinking?” she asked as she grabbed a tight lipped Sameen … and sat her down in the chair.

“NOOOOO!” Shaw said and jumped up. Sitting was not going to be easy for a while. “I was trying to teach you a lesson! Who gave you that?” she asked, suspicious of the pink color.

“Zo-e,” Janine gulped. Shaw growled as she grimaced. “She was worried and made me promised that I’d carry it.”

“In a vacant room?” Shaw bellowed, trying to walk off the burn. “What is that set for; third degree burns?”

“You scared me!” Janine said apologetically with a thin layer of defense.

“Why did you run off like that?” Shaw demanded to know as she walked with a pronounced limp.

Janine didn’t answer right away. “Can I get you ice?” Shaw glared back at the woman to answer. “You were right, Shaw. I knew I had help subduing that guy,” she admitted shamefully. “I just wanted to believe that I could help when any of you were in trouble.”

Shaw hated when people gave in so easily; it left nothing to fight. “Look, you did help. If you hadn’t jumped on that ass… bad guy, your girlfriend wouldn’t have been able to disable him. I just wanted you to be trained a little,” Shaw said, bending over in pain.

Janine rushed and put her arm around her boss’ shoulder. “Let me get you something,” she insisted and gently pushed her boss to the door.

“What is this place?” Shaw asked. “The room where all good deeds go to get punished?!”

“No one ever comes here,” Janine said, adding; “… it’s really quiet.”

“Really?” Shaw said, thinking with a new coat of paint and a ceiling, this might be her new hideout. Of course, the woman who intruded in her space the most was aware of its location.

* * *

Janine took Shaw back to their floor; only to be greeted by Root who was looking for her wife. When she saw Sameen’s body being supported by the trusty assistant; she didn’t know what to think. She rushed to her wife. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“What happened was the Fixer armed her!” Shaw summarized.

“I… tazed her,” Janine said, unable to look at Root.

“You… _what_?” Root asked. Now, a part of her wanted to protest – “ _Hey, that’s my thing_!” but she thought better of it. “Why?”

Now, neither woman wanted to supply the answer. “She… surprised me,” Janine said, leaving out the part where Shaw fell from the sky.

“Where did you…?” Root asked and Sameen wondered if she could burrow through the concrete floor and disappear.

“Well, she fittingly hit me where most people are already a pain!” Shaw barked.

“Oh, dear,” Root said and took Sameen’s other arm.

“I’m so sorry,” Janine said repentantly.

“It’s okay, really,” Shaw said, knowing how hard the woman took things. “I deserved it – jumping down and trying to scare you.”

Now, Root had the whole story. “I’ll take her from here,” she said. “Do you want me to cancel dinner?”

“Do you want me to cancel dinner?” Janine asked at the same time.

Then, Shaw remembered tonight was the dinner at Harold’s and Grace. And the same night Isabelle was making dinner at Zoe’s. The latter hurt more than the taser sting.

“No, we’ll go and you enjoy dinner with Zoe,” Shaw decided bravely.

“Does this mean you will still train me?” Janine asked, hoping she hadn’t ruined her chances.

“Are you kidding? Someone has to; your girlfriend can’t be trusted!” Shaw barked. “Arming an untrained person with a Tazer! What was she thinking?”

That would be the same question Zoe would ask about Shaw, when Janine replayed the story and said she dropped out of nowhere.

* * *

Root returned to her office where her secretary had been watching Michael. Now, in the quiet of the inner office, Root suggested she take a look at the injury. She had asked her assistant to get her a bag of ice.

“You know, I can’t stand the thought of anyone tazing you,” Root said sympathetically, “… unless it’s me.”

“You wanna charge her with copyright infringement?” Shaw asked and tried to laugh, but it hurt.

When the ice bag was produced, Root gently bent her wife over the desk – so that she was facing Michael in the baby seat on Root’s desk.

“I cannot stress this enough,” Shaw said to the baby who was watching as one mother bent over and the other one gently pressed the ice down. “When you inherit this place, get an office with three locks and an electrified doorknob,” she instructed the baby.

Michael squealed and kicked her feet at the instructions.

From her own personal experience with administering the electric weapon, Root could discern that the application had been light. Still, there was a reddened mark on the otherwise unblemished body part. Shaw tried to continue her soliloquy, but her wife had just pulled her pants lower and applied the lightest kiss on the injury.

“Root?” Shaw said, trying to block the baby from seeing what was going on. “Root, that feels…,” but she couldn’t continue.

“Feels?” Root prompted because she knew her gentle touch was soothing. Her fingers grazed around the red area, leaving goosebumps in their path.

“Okay, it feels… good,” Shaw conceded.

Michael smiled at the funny expression on her mother’s face; unaware of course, that it was an expression of pure delight.

“Perhaps we should cancel tonight,” Root said when she went back to applying the ice pack.

“No, we can’t,” Shaw decided. “The Kid would be disappointed. And besides, Harold would just cause that pain on his own, so I’m sort of ahead of the game.”

“What is it about Harold?” Root asked, because she noticed her wife seemed intolerant of the man.

“Right now, I can’t put my finger on it,” Shaw lied.

“Well, I’m taking you home so we can get ready, but if you’re not feeling up to it, I’m cancelling and making Isabelle come back to make dinner,” Root said in a very definite tone.

It was nice to hear Root come to her aid and try to make everything better. “I like it when you try to be bossy,” Shaw shared.

“Oh, yes?” Root said, already turned on by the sight of her wife’s bared body parts. “Wait. What do you mean… _try_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you get a chance, please look on Twitter on my page to see what a very talented reader - valsdo .. had done at finding the perfect GIFS to depict what Shaw is going through. lol


	60. Tending to Wounds

When Zoe Morgan finally did look at her phone, she saw all those missed calls from Shaw and worried it was about Janine. She was near her girlfriend’s office and decided to go there first. She bolted through the revolving doors and ran right into exiting couple.

For Zoe, it was a stroke of good luck; for Shaw, it was the icing on a terrible afternoon.

“Is everything… okay?” Zoe asked, holding onto Shaw’s arms to steady both of them.

Sameen’s head turned slowly to look at the hands that held her in place until Zoe let go. “Is… _everything_ … okay?” Shaw asked, aghast. “She wants to know if everything is okay,” she repeated to Root.

“You called me, like a _dozen_ times,” Zoe explained.

“I was looking for your runaway girlfriend,” Shaw countered.

“Janine? Ran away? Why? That doesn’t sound like her. What did _you_ do, Shaw?” the protective girlfriend asked… bravely.

Even Michael screamed not to pick on her mother!

“Me? For your information; I was the recipient of your ill-advised suggestion that your girlfriend carry a weapon,” Shaw barked and she put her hand to the injured area.

It took Zoe a second to get what she meant, but when she did, her whole expression changed. She looked over at Root to confirm. The slightest nod affirmed what she suspected. “She… tazed you?” Zoe asked and it wasn’t in the horrified tone Shaw was expecting.

In fact, it was laced more with awe and admiration.

“Yes, she tazed me!” Shaw barked. “What were you thinking; giving her that instrument of pain without training her?”

“What’s to train, Shaw? You point it and… zap! Oh, sorry,” Zoe said when she realized that was a poor choice of words. “But you, Shaw? Why would she…?” It didn’t make sense.

“Never mind,” Shaw said dismissively. “Just don’t give her anything else before I train her, okay? Like numchucks or brass knuckles!”

“Okay, sure,” Zoe agreed and then thought she’d take another moment of the couple’s time. “You know, Shaw, I think I might have misunderstood our conversation about… all of this,” Zoe admitted.

“You think?” Shaw said, taking none of the blame.

“Well, I just wanted to apologize for causing such confusion,” Zoe said.

“Try listening better next time, okay? So, I don’t wind up on the end of your girlfriend’s trigger-happy finger!” Shaw said and regretted the words immediately. For a brief second, Shaw hoped Zoe wouldn’t take those words the wrong way, but one look at the utter delightful smile on her face assured Shaw – she had.

Zoe couldn’t help it. Although the details were still vague, her girlfriend had managed to subdue Sameen Shaw! And Shaw’s misspoken words simply couldn’t be left alone.

“Yeah, Shaw; after all…,” Zoe teased as she walked slowly away; “… if anyone’s going to be there...”

“Alright, alright!” Shaw barked and closed her eyes and grimaced. “Could we please install lasers in the vestibule, pleeease?” Shaw begged, looking up at Root with her rarely used puppy-dog eyes expression.

She did that so infrequently, in fact, that Root immediately noticed. “Yes, yes, we can,” Root said because she’d give Shaw whatever she wanted right now. And at any time.

* * *

Michael was napping when Doctor Groves decided she needed to see her patient up close and personally.

“Root, we don’t have time…,” Shaw protested.

“Sameen, I’m not playing now. I want to make sure you’re okay,” Root said, gently pushing her wife to turn around so she could inspect her injury.

“You saw it before,” Shaw reminded her. “Hey, what’s with the pushing?”

“Silly,” Root chastised her because she barely touched her… just yet. “I know I saw it before, but you might need something…,” she suggested as she made Sameen … get into position.

“You should be a doctor; you have _no_ bedside manner. You’d be great,” Shaw balked… but did as she was told.

Root was serious when she inspected the reddened area. “I’m going to recommend some calcitriol ointment,” she said in a thoughtful, but authoritative tone. She wasn’t telling the patient as much as she was authorizing the Machine to present a prescription at the local pharmacy and have it delivered.

“And how many times a day would you suggest I apply this ointment?” Sameen practically mocked, but did admire that her wife knew the right medicine.

“As many times as I can get my hands on you,” Root answered quickly.

“I thought so,” Sameen laughed and stood back up when the exam was over.

* * *

Root managed to soothe the agitated woman who found her fellow human beings annoying; she drew Sameen into a warm embrace and kissed her mouth. First, she touched the upper lip where she slid her tongue to invade; then she gently bit the lower lip and pulled on it, until she heard the moan escape the back of Shaw’s throat.

“We… have… to leave soon,” Shaw gasped out.

“I leave no patient unsatisfied,” Doctor Groves informed her impatient patient.

Hands slid under clothes and pushed upward to discard blouses and t-shirts. Pants were quickly opened and discarded in a pile. Silky underwear gave way to hands pulling and pushing until the couple slid naked under cool sheets.

Sameen barely felt a thing as Root’s hands made magic happen with every intentionally placed touch. But Shaw was done letting people push her around. Each of Root’s moves was equally matched, until she was on top and working Root into a frenzied state.

To be fair; it often happened in the same amount of time as flipping a switch.

Shaw’s tanned and toned body was enough to set Root on fire, but when Sameen saw fit to verbally torture her; Root lost it.

“People will think…,” Shaw said quietly by Root’s ear as she dominated her and held her hands up above her head. “That… you spanked me.” The word alone made Root’s entire body squirm under Sameen. “But we know that couldn’t happen,” Shaw teased as Root begged her to stop. “… you’re not strong enough to do that,” Shaw whispered and pressed down hard on her wife who attempted to topple her.

The two broke out in laughter at the playful banter.

“You know, I’ve heard…,” Shaw said, pushing her body down on Root’s torso now, “… that some people just make love without all of this playing.”

“I feel sorry for them,” Root said and meant it. Her hands started to traverse Shaw’s bare back, gently causing her skin to erupt in goosebumps. In the moment when Sameen relaxed her grip, Root made a lunge forward to topple Shaw over. But Sameen was like a rock – unyielding when she tensed her muscles.

“Don’t be ridiculous; you’re no match for these guns,” Shaw teased and then kissed her own flexed biceps. Root loved the display of pure physical strength and giggled as her wife began demonstrating her other skills.

Then, after Root cried her name in pure ecstasy – twice, she became very quiet. It seemed to emerge out of nowhere when Root stopped all ministrations and looked up at Shaw. “Tell me you love me,” she said – and she was somber.

Shaw stopped – waiting to see if there was a joke attached somewhere. But there wasn’t. One look into those light brown eyes that reflected Root’s inner feelings told her she was serious. “Of course, I do,” she responded, but could tell that wasn’t what Root needed.

Maybe it was an old hurt that was unleashed when they made love with reckless abandonment, or the vulnerability of losing yourself in the fall at the end of an intense electric buildup, but Root often felt defenseless in Shaw’s arms. The three words alone would never do and Shaw knew it. She grabbed Root’s chin to make sure their eyes locked. “Not only do I love you, Samantha Groves;” Shaw said because she knew she was dealing with an old wound, “… I would kill anyone who tried to touch you!”

Shaw wasn’t just Root’s wife and lover; she was her protector - and Root knew it.

Root’s eyes teared and she grabbed Sameen to press against her and held her tightly as if trying to quell old demons. “I’ll always be here for you, Root,” Shaw said sweetly.  
It took Root a few minute to recuperate from that surge of fear, but once she did, she loosened her grip on Sameen.

Shaw didn’t move until Root did. She understood what happened and wished with all her heart she could assure Root once and for all that they were okay. But she knew baggage from the early years often shows up unannounced. She swore she’d always be there to help Root; to unpack it… or carry it.

In her own eloquent way, Shaw reminded her wife; “We can handle all kinds of shit together, Root.”

* * *

Within an hour, both women were dressed in tight knit dresses and ready to go. Michael wore a special outfit, too. One of the many her grandmother had picked out for her. Sameen had forgotten all about her superficial injury; and Root had recovered from the most resent resurrection of her oldest dread.

Harold was trying to suggest a healthier choice of menu, but Grace and Gen overruled and opted for a variety of choices. Of course, the first choice was steak.

Azar brought a large box of art supplies for Grace; a rare first edition for Harold and, for the newest member of her family via her daughter; she gave Genrika a Persian necklace. “It was my grandmother’s,” she said when she presented it to Gen. It was a sapphire necklace in eighteen carat gold.

“Are you sure?” she asked Azar, worried this should be passed down to one of her children.

“You are part of our family, too,” Azar said and the thought of being a part of Shaw’s family sent the child into heart palpitations.

“I love it,” Gen said and hugged the woman tightly.

Shaw looked over, sipping her beer. “Are you going to get all _emo_ on me?” she asked.

“We have something, too,” Root announced and presented Gen with the box.

Gen opened the box excitedly and Shaw realized – perhaps for the first time – that Gen still was a child in many ways. Shaw had hardly been listening when Root explained what gift she got. She had just remembered that Isabelle wouldn’t be cooking for them and couldn’t concentrate.

“What is it?” Grace asked of the piece of paper that Gen took out of the box.

“It’s a… stock certificate,” Gen said, reading the print, but not quite sure what it is.

“It’s the first stock of BEAR, entitling you to have a say in everything we do,” Root smiled.

“I… get… to _vote_?” Gen said, thrilled that she could do such a thing.

“She... gets… to _vote_?” Shaw echoed, wondering what kind of trouble that would lead to. “Oh, Kid; vote no on Reese’s Yoga proposition. Do it, Kid.”

“I think yoga is a wonderful tool!” Gen said, and drew a dark stare from Sameen.

“We’re going to live to regret this,” Shaw pouted to her stock-issuing wife.

* * *

The hired help told Harold and Grace that dinner was ready and everyone started to walk into the dining room.

“Hey, Kid,” Shaw said, pulling her back from the crowd. “I want to give you something,” she said, digging into her purse.

“You didn’t have to, Shaw,” Gen said because her best gift was having Sameen as her Godmother.

“Yeah, well, I want you to have this,” Shaw said, taking out a silver necklace and putting it in Gen’s hand.

The youth looked down and became wide-eyed. “You want me … but this is … your…”

“Dog tag, yeah I know,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes. It was her military ID issued metal that was worn around her neck.

Gen ran her finger over the embossed letters that showed Shaw’s name and ID number. “Oh, Shaw…,” she said and choked back tears because she knew how much her Godmother might detest it.

“Hey,” Shaw said and pulled the kid into her embrace, “… It’s okay to show how you feel. Not… like.. _all_ the time or before I’ve had coffee,” she clarified. “But, yeah, on special days… like today.”

It was a good thing that Sameen had such a tight grip on her Godchild, because she dissolved into tears upon hearing Shaw’s permission.

“I got you, Kid,” Shaw said as she held on and patiently gave Genrika the time she needed to cry.

“See that?” Root whispered to Michael as they gazed back at Shaw. “See how wonderful your mommy is with everyone? That is why we give her anything she wants.”

* * *

Earlier that afternoon, Zoe had sat with rapt attention as Janine explained what happened. The woman was upset and held her head in her hands as she told how Shaw suddenly was there in the room with her, and how she tazed her.

“Wow!” Zoe said, without thinking. “I mean… ugh, sorry,” she tried to feign her regret, but she thought the whole thing was pretty hot.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Janine worried about the woman she assaulted.

“Shaw?” Zoe asked because they weren’t talking about any mere mortal here. “Shaw will get plenty of stories out of this. She knows it was an accident,” she assured her lover.

“And now we’re taking her chef!” Janine said, the odds stacked too heavily in her favor.

“Look,” Zoe said, pulling Janine in closer and trying to soothe her, “… how about we just go to my place and order pizza and let her chef go to wherever Shaw is.”  
Janine looked up at Zoe. “Oh, my God; you really are the Fixer!” she said when Zoe presented the perfect solution. “Shaw doesn’t really enjoy other people’s cooking and so she’d really prefer Isabelle’s; especially…,” the woman grimaced, “… if she’s hurt.”

“I saw Shaw on the way in and I truly believe she was okay. Besides, you know Root; she’ll do everything in her power to make sure Shaw’s taken care of,” Zoe assured Janine.

“That’s true,” she said, the guilt lifting a little.

When the couple told Isabelle about their change of plans, Janine confessed that she had injured Sameen. “It was really an accident!” she said when she explained to Isabelle what happened.

Isabelle was excellent at juggling things to make her clients happy. “I’ll have the meal I prepared for you and Ms. Morgan delivered. Then, I’ll head over to Harold’s. She’s going to need steak,” the insightful woman said.

* * *

When Shaw and Gen returned to the dining room, the Godmother went to sit down at her designated place. Of course, she’d forgotten about the injury since they had arrived. A carefully placed pillow in the car made it easier to drive, but there was none here. Sameen sat down and immediately jumped up, slamming her fist on the table. “JE-SUS!” she shouted and then looked at all the stunned faces looking at her. “And… anyone else you pray to, of course…,” she fumbled, “… we give thanks for this food,” she concluded awkwardly.

“Nice save,” Root said under her breath and quickly put Michael’s soft blanket in Shaw’s seat.

“Better,” Shaw smiled.

“I think you’ll enjoy this,” Grace said to her finicky guest when the entrees were served.

“I don’t know; I think there were flower petals in that salad,” Shaw admitted freely.

“Oh, I just bet you’re going to like this,” Gen all but squealed because she knew something Shaw didn’t.

“Now see, Kid; you shouldn’t go making bets that you have a good chance of losing,” Shaw lectured. “So much to learn; so little gives a sh…”

“So, you’ll take that bet?” Gen egged her newly appointed Godmother on.

“I hate to do this to her,” Shaw said to her wife who didn’t know either. “Sure, Kid.”

“If you lose, you have to come to my lecture next week; and if I lose, I’ll…,” Gen said, taping her finger to her chin.

“Not talk for twenty-four hours,” Shaw decided.

“Deal,” Gen said as the woman took the first bite of steak.

“Do we know the Heimlich maneuver?” Harold whispered to Grace when he saw the size of the piece of meat Shaw just took.

Grace gently slapped his knee under the table and went back to marveling at how her daughter was playing with her Godmother.

“See? Yaloze, kid,” Shaw quickly said before the juice from the perfectly prepared meat touched her palate.

“Are you… sure?” Gen said, leaning over and waiting for it.

It took a second, but the delicious flavoring that only one woman in the entire universe used, finally registered. “Ohmuhgawd!” Shaw uttered, shoving another piece in to be sure. “Is she?” she said to Root who shrugged her shoulders that she didn’t know.  
Shaw threw her napkin down and almost got up before taking another bite for the long trip to the kitchen. “Is she here?”

Root looked over at Genrika who had the silliest smirk on her face. “Did you trick her?” Root asked.

“A little,” Gen giggled.

The door to the kitchen burst open and there stood the woman Shaw adored for her culinary skills. Reunions at police stations when dogs are reunited with their long lost owners were less emotional than these two women discovering they were in the same house.

“I knew it! I knew no one could make steak like that! I knew it!” Shaw declared as Isabelle beamed.

“I asked them not to tell you,” Isabelle confessed and reached out to hold Shaw’s arms. “As a surprise!”

“What happened? Morgan come to her senses?” Shaw inquired.

“Janine called,” Isabelle explained. “I think she thought you needed my cooking more tonight.”

“Yeah,” Shaw agreed, thinking this did soften things just a little. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” Isabelle beamed because she knew how much Sameen meant it.

* * *

Sameen emerged from the kitchen a new woman. She was jovial and friendly, now that she was sure she could enjoy every last bite of her meal.

Dessert was served, or in Shaw’s case; scoffed down, and Harold made the announcement that Sameen Shaw was officially designated as Genrika’s Godmother.

“I seriously want certain amendments to that document, Finch,” Shaw explained. “I get to interview every date…,” she listed as Gen begged Harold not to do that.

The guests laughed as the wonderful night drew to a close. While they gathered all their belongings and thanked their hostess and host, Azar pulled Root aside.

“I wanted to give this to Sameen, but I am afraid this is not the time,” she said in her deeply warm voice that always expressed her concern for them.

“What is it?” Root asked, accepting the small white box.

“It is something that Sameen thought she…lost,” Azar said, choosing that word - even though her daughter had ripped it off her neck and tossed it on the ground. “She will be surprised that it was found.”

“When should I give it to her?” Root asked.

Azar smiled and hugged her daughter-in-law; trusting she would know when to give it to Sameen. “You will know, Samantha,” she said and bade everyone good night.

Sameen was arguing with her mother that she should wait for them to take her home, but Azar insisted she was okay.

Root opened the small box and looked inside. She was puzzled by the contents, but even more bewildered how she would know when the right time was to give it to Sameen.


	61. Three's Company

The fact that Zoe offered Janine a solution for dinner meant a great deal to the younger woman. Now, they sat across from one another in Zoe’s large dining room, feasting on the prepared meal Isabelle had delivered.

“It’s no wonder Shaw doesn’t want to share her,” Zoe mused because the food was so good.

“Yes,” Janine said, but her attention was somewhere else.

“What is it?” Zoe asked as they finished their meals.

“I feel awful that I tazed her,” she confessed.

“She startled you,” Zoe reminded her. “Anyone would have done what you did,” she said to comfort her. “But I don’t think they would have done it… as well.”

Janine appreciated that Zoe was trying to make her feel better, but she noticed the slightest smile on her face as she did. “You’re not… happy that I did that, are you?” she guessed slightly off.

“No! No, I’m…,” Zoe replied, but couldn’t help what she felt, “… slightly… turned on by it,” she confessed truthfully. In her line of work, thinking quickly on your feet was always admired.

Janine looked at Zoe surprised, then, looked away, perplexed. Zoe read the conflict immediately. “Oh, come on; you can’t blame me,” she said defensively, “… YOU… tazed SHAW! I mean, it’s sort of like David and Goliath… sort of,” she tried weakly. She could tell that wasn’t the most convincing argument.

“Not exactly,” Janine said, but her tone started to soften.

“Sort of,” Zoe countered and ran her shoeless foot up Janine’s leg from across the table. “I mean, you have to admit that was badass.”

“I just wish it had been with someone else,” Janine shared.

Thinking it was going to get pretty crowded in the bedroom with _three_ people, Zoe made up her mind to help Janine get past her guilt.

“What would make you feel better about this?” she asked, ready to do anything.

“It’s silly; I know she’s okay. I just don’t want her mad at me,” Janine confessed her real fear.

Zoe could tell how sincere her girlfriend was. “Are you… worried Shaw will… ever… fire you?”

“Not fire,” she immediately said, but couldn’t shake the unsteady feeling.

The Fixer – who had so many skill sets, one bag wouldn’t hold them all; simply smiled. “Suppose I can get you undeniable proof that Shaw isn’t mad at you,” she suggested.

“How would you…?” the younger woman was asking when Zoe put her finger up.

“ _Undeniable_ proof. Would you let go of this whole thing then?” she asked.

“I guess, yes,” Janine agreed.

“Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll get it,” Zoe said confidently and got up from the table because she could see the softening in Janine’s eyes.

“I still don’t know…,” Janine was expressing when the woman who could take no more, kissed her hard.

“I don’t deserve you if I can’t completely distract you,” Zoe whispered and left Janine silent. “Now, how about dessert,” she said, pulling her girlfriend up by the hand and pulling her into the bedroom.

* * *

When the family arrived home, they went into the kitchen. “Hey, just because Isabelle showed up doesn’t mean she didn’t leave us food, right?” Shaw said because the woman had tried to soften the blow by promising food.

“I can’t imagine that woman would ever leave you _scrounging_ for anything,” Root laughed.

Just to be sure, Shaw went to the refrigerator and found several choices for after dinner snacks. “I adore that woman,” Shaw announced as if it were news.

“How _many_ women do you adore now?” Root teased, trying to sound annoyed.

“Well, let’s see,” her wife played along and started to eat a plate of spaghetti with meat sauce.

“I think you need to heat that… okay,” Root said as Shaw dove in to the cold food.

“There’s Isabelle, of course; then, Janine because if she wasn’t on the list, she’d annoy the hell out of me; then there’s Fusco,” Shaw quipped with a smirk because he was being grouped in with the women; “… and my mother who can still be annoying, but she’s turning out to be a pretty good grandmother; and who else?” Shaw asked, tapping the fork on her chin. “Oh, yes,” she said slowly, “Martine! I wish more people were like her; she just gets it, you know?” Shaw purposely left out the woman she singularly admired above everyone else on purpose – just to tease her.

With an – ‘ _Oh, two can play this game_ ,’ expression, Root sat down and bravely put a fork into Shaw’s food and bite into a meat ball. For a split second, all bets were off because that wasn’t funny. Shaw pulled her plate back just a little while Root continued. “I have my own list. Of women I adore,” she said, smacking her lips and thinking – this would taste better heated up.

“Ha!” Shaw blurted out and pushed the spaghetti back in her mouth. “Who is on that list?” she laughed and added; “And don’t say Isabelle.”

Rising to the challenge now, Root pursed her lips and responded: “I… adore…,” she said slowly and could see the smirk starting to form on her wife’s competitive face; “Michelle Obama…,”

“Pffft! Everyone adores her,” Shaw scoffed.

“I adore…,” Root started over but was coming up empty. The tiny creases around her eyes were present and she couldn’t look at Sameen as she tried to come up with someone else. She was caving under pressure. “Your mother…,” Root said.

“Too easy, Groves,” Shaw criticized. “Face it; you’re an open book and I know everything about you.”

Root’s eyes lit up the way they did when she knew she was bested. “Then, I guess, you know the person I adore the most is you!”

Her genuine outpouring of affection took the wind out of Sameen’s teasing sails. She stopped eating – yes, that seriously – and took Root’s hand. “You and me, kid,” Shaw summed up.

“You and me,” Root repeated softly and kissed her wife.

The couple took Michael upstairs and placed her in the crib. Then, they undressed and climbed into bed. After her long day, sleep came easily to Sameen and she was out like a light. Root turned to stare at her wife; a hobby of hers it seemed. She loved to stare at the softness of Sameen’s eyes; the fullness of her lips. She stroked the inside of her arm and Sameen turned towards her, picking her head up and putting it on Root’s shoulder. Cuddling now, in a warm embrace; Root didn’t think life could get any better.

Her mind wondered back to the box Azar had given her. The contents; a gold religious cross, must have meant something to either Azar or Sameen. She kept thinking about her mother-in-law saying she’d know when to give it to her. At the moment, Root couldn’t imagine when the time would be right. She drifted off to sleep hoping Azar hadn’t placed too much faith in her.

* * *

The morning came with the usual flurry of rushing to get ready. Azar had asked if she could take Michael for a walk in Central Park and was due there any minute to pick her up.

Isabelle was back in the one location that gave her job the most meaning; Root and Shaw’s kitchen.

“Imnotgonnalie,” Sameen said, shoving another syrup covered pancake in her mouth; “IwuzdreadingFinch’smul.”

“You were dreading Finch’s meal? Isabelle guessed and when Shaw nodded yes, she clasped her hands together in victory. “Ms. Morgan insisted that I go to Mr. Finch’s,” she added and saw Sameen scrunch her face up in response.

“Yeah, what’s up with her being so nice?” Shaw wondered suspiciously.

Azar arrived and greeted everyone. “I believe you’re guaranteed a job for life,” she smiled at the woman who cooked for her daughter. “I wonder if you know someone who could do a menu for a small dinner party.”

“She’s mine,” Shaw blurted out as if someone threatened to take the woman away. Her mother looked at her quizzically. “I mean… we don’t lend her out. I mean, we tried that and it didn’t work out so well,” she dug herself deeper.

“It… didn’t?” Azar asked, knowing exactly who it didn’t work out for; but it was Isabelle who spoke.

“It was… hard,” she admitted.

Knowing a perfectly symbiotic relationship when she saw one, Azar dropped the subject. “Oh, I forgot,” Azar said, pushing her hand into her large purse and pulling out a brown envelope. “The doorman asked me to give this delivery to Root.”

Right on cue, Root entered the kitchen with Michael on her hip. “All ready, Grandma,” she said for her daughter who smiled when she saw the woman.

“Oh, look at her!” the woman said and put the package on the island top. “Let me see you. Did you get bigger since the last I saw you?”

“You mean, since last night?” Shaw couldn’t help but point out.

“She’s even prettier,” Azar said and now her daughter wasn’t letting that go.

“Mom, we’re not raising Michael in a visually biased environment where she’s praised for her good looks. Which, by the way, she got from Root. But that aside, we want to encourage her free expression and natural athletic skills, which, by the way, she gets from me…,” Shaw rambled on. “…Please, God,” she added and looked up to the heavens. “So, don’t praise her for what genes gave her, okay?”

Root was stunned. One, she couldn’t believe Shaw stopped chewing long enough to even notice her mother fawning over Michael. Secondly, she couldn’t believe how nerdish her wife sounded. It was a total turn on.

Azar, too, was surprised and turned to look at Root, who smiled her agreement. “O…kay,” Azar agreed.

The whole discussion was enough to distract the messenger momentarily. “Oh, this is for you,” she finally said and pushed to package over to Root. “Come, Michael,” Azar said, taking the baby from Root to strap in the carriage.

Shaw took out her phone to text her sister because walking the baby always involved two people at the minimum. “ _Meet her downstairs now_ ,” is all is said andAyala was on her way. In spite of not liking being bossed by her older sister, the woman rarely turned down a chance to see her niece.

* * *

Root thanked her mother-in-law and returned to the kitchen as Shaw read off the list of rules. “Don’t let anyone touch her; I mean, you have no idea where those people have been.”

“If I didn’t know better, Sameen, I’d say you were becoming a germaphobe,” her mother teased.

“Really?” Sameen scoffed and tried to retaliate. “What about you? In those heels? How are you going to protect your granddaughter if…?” she was asking when

Azar reached in her bag and took out sensible shoes… and a gun.

“No one gets near her,” Azar said in the most pleasant tone.

“Oh, okay, good,” her daughter said.

The elevator was approaching when the kitchen door flew open and Root shouted – “Where did you get this?” Her tone startled her wife and mother-n-law. Her daughter stared up at her.

“Root?” Shaw asked and wondered what happened.

“Where did you get this?” she repeated and Shaw stepped in between Root and her mother.

“What is up with you?” Shaw asked because she knew her mother brought it up at the doorman’s request.

“It was at the desk. Are you okay?” Azar asked because that tone was so unusual for Root.

Shaw’s touch on Root’s arm brought her back to the moment and she realized what she sounded like. “Yes, I’m sorry; I remember now,” she smiled, but they continued to stare at her.

The elevator arrived and Azar asked if she should wait; but Root assured her it was okay.

* * *

“Is you sister downstairs?” Root asked and Sameen assured her she was.

“Yes. What the hell is up with you?” Shaw asked, of the odd behavior.

Root turned to lock eyes with her wife and uttered the phrase Sameen had heard all too many times that week.

“We need to talk.”

With that, she opened the brown envelop and pulled out the contents to show her wife.

“ _Flowers… for… Algernon_ ,” Shaw read the title. “What the hell is that? Oh, no! We’re not doing a book club! Root, tell me we’re not doing a book club!”

Her taller wife simply tilted her head to the side as she opened the book.

‘ _I need to see you_ ,’ Shaw read and then asked –

“Who the hell is… HF? Is that Finch?”

“We need to go…,” Root said, ignoring the question and rushing to get the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Root would only let Azar and Michael leave if she were sure they were safe. And - she is.


	62. Library Status:  Overdue

Root was rushing Shaw out of the Penthouse and to their car; the mysterious book shoved back into the envelope. None of this made any sense to Sameen. “Is it a thank you from Finch?” she guessed, but Root was too busy thinking to hear the question. Then, Shaw noticed her wife look directly up at the street camera before they got into their car. This wasn’t unusual; given the woman was the gatekeeper to the city wide AI system. But what was different, was the hand signal Root used. She put up one finger; then three; and then her index, middle and pinky to show another three.

“Did I _skip_ class the day we learned to give the Machine numeric signals?” Shaw asked, getting behind the wheel.

“I gave you and Michael codes for the Machine to know to look out for you,” Root said calmly.

“And I don’t get a code for you?” Shaw asked.

“I was thinking mine would be more … internal at some point,” Root shared. She hadn’t found the right moment to discuss with Sameen her research into cochlear implants.

“Are you worried about Michael?” Shaw asked, stopping the car in the middle of traffic.

“Not with your mother and sister there. No, not at all,” Root assured her.

“Yeah, gun-toting Grandma,” Shaw said and gave a cabbie the finger when he tried to pass her.

“Deep breaths, Sweetie,” Root said, not even looking up from her phone.

“Okay, you know you’re not making sense, right? What’s up with the book?” Shaw asked a little more sternly this time as she drove into traffic.

“We need to go to the Machine’s warehouse,” Root said pointing to the direction she wanted Sameen to go towards.

“Backseat driver _with_ poor listening skills,” Shaw said under her breath, but followed her wife’s directions.

* * *

Minutes later, or six threats on taxi drivers’ lives for cutting her off, Shaw parked on a side street. Then, they walked casually into the doorway that led to the Machine’s home on Madison Avenue in a vacant library.

“You know I’m a patient woman, right?” Shaw asked Root impatiently after they entered the inner sanctum.

“Yes,” Root said and her fingers were flying across a keyboard as lights flickered on the machines that surrounded them.

“And it’s been, like twenty minutes since I asked you to explain this to me?” Shaw added.

“Aha,” Root said, but she was typing in a long code of something.

Sameen knew she was being ignored because it was so rare an occurrence from her wife, that it was glaring. She knew exactly how to get a nerd’s attention when they were nerd-ing full throttle. You touch something on their machine. “What does this switch do?” Shaw asked, slyly putting her finger on a switch that was in the ‘on’ position.

Root was wise to Sameen’s ways and simply answered; “It shuts the connection down.” She listened to the sharp expelling of air through Sameen’s nose as she scrunched up her face in defeat. “I’ll explain everything… in a minute.”

Shaw withdrew her hand and paced; looking around at the massive collection of hardware what was housed in the secret location. Her phone buzzed and she looked at the text. “Seriously?” she complained and shoved her phone back in her pocket.

“Someone need you?” Root asked as she finished and turned to her wife.

“What _someone_ needs is a therapist! I swear, next time I’m just going to give that woman a list of the people she needs to counsel,” Shaw huffed. “Okay, what gives? Why did Finch send you a book?”

“Remember when I couldn’t think of anyone I admired besides you?” Root started, and didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, part of that was because once I get you in my head, there’s little room for anything else,” Root thought out truthfully. “But there was someone…”

Shaw’s head snapped up to look at Root. Her mind raced to consider what the hell Root was trying to tell her. “What are you saying, Root?”

“My best friend growing up was Hanna Frey; HF,” Root said slowly.

“HF?” Shaw asked and her wife nodded. “When was the last time…?”

“Not in ages,” Root answered. “Hannah used to look out for me when she was fourteen and I was eleven. Because my mom worked, I spent a great deal at the public library, where Hanna was always studying and playing Oregon Trail.”

“Oregon _what_?” Shaw asked because she spent most of her childhood outdoors playing sports.

“It was a computer game popular back then. Anyway, one night Hanna was playing it, right before closing. I was helping her when her father showed up. Her father was very strict and I think Hanna; no, I know Hanna was afraid of him. He was physical when he got mad,” Root said.

The hairs on the back of Sameen’s neck stood up and she didn’t care for the way this story was going. “Yeah, go on,” she said and her jawline tightened.

“He got angry that she was playing the game that night and, when she got home, he hit her. I didn’t see her for a couple of days and when I did, she had a black eye. I tried to talk to the adults, but everyone told me to mind my own business. Hanna told me she had plans to run away,” Root said and her voice got low. “I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“How?” Shaw asked.

“I had money transferred from a local drug dealer into her father’s account; when they found out, they took care of him,” Root relayed. “Then, _someone_ told the police he was involved with them, and he went to prison.”

Shaw thought over how a much younger Root took care of things even back then. “Sounds like a good plan,” she concurred. Somehow, Root didn’t look pleased.

“Someone broke into their house, knowing that her father wasn’t there; they robbed and threatened to hurt them,” Root said, her tone soft and sad.

“Hey!” Shaw immediately came to her defense, “…that piece of crap father could have been out of the house that night anyway. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I took matters into my own hands, Sameen; and something bad happened,” Root summarized.

Shaw tried to look at it from Root’s point of view, but she couldn’t. “Look, bad things happen to good people; it sucks, but that’s life. Your actions probably stopped a lot more bad things happening to them.”

Root looked up at Sameen. “I wish I really was the woman you saw,” she smiled, thinking how loving Shaw was.

“You listen to me,” Shaw said sternly, and then something dawned on her; something terrible. “Root,” she said and pulled her wife up by the arms; “… did this guy _ever_ put a hand on you?”

Leave it to Shaw to worry about Root while Root was confessing her transgressions. Her teeth were clenched and Root could feel how tightly she was grasping her arms.

“No, he never did,” Root said and just the thought of it made it hard for Shaw to take in that answer.

“Where is he?” she asked, just in case she needed to know.

“Probably dead. I would imagine his sentence was served. I lost touch with Hanna when I went into the system and when I ran away, I couldn’t reach out for fear they’d find me,” Root explained.

“Why is she reaching out now? And how did she find you?” Shaw asked suspiciously.

“Well, I’m not exactly in hiding, am I?” Root asked smiling about her semi-celebrity status. “And I don’t know why now.”

“I’m meeting her first; not you,” Shaw decided.

“But she…,” Root started to explain, but a hard glare stopped her.

“That wasn’t open to debate, Root,” Shaw said – dead serious. “Why are we here?”

“Just wanted to check on things,” Root said, always worried that someone could be poking around the inner workings.

“Where is this friend that you never told me about?” Shaw asked, casting a hard look at Root.

“She can’t find her,” Root said of the Machine’s ability to locate someone.

“I will,” Shaw said confidently. “And then we’ll talk about why I never heard of this woman.”

Root then uttered those two familiar words of complete surrender when in the wrong and faced with a formidable foe:

“Yes, dear.”

* * *

When Root was satisfied that everything was in order, she told Sameen they could leave.

“What does this chick look like?” Shaw asked her wife as they headed to the car.

It took Root a second to hack into a database of licenses and pull Hanna’s up. “Gosh, she’s prettier than I remember,” Root said and didn’t notice how that sounded. Her faithfulness to Shaw was undying.

When Shaw shot her wife a side glance, Root realized she was taking it the wrong way. “No, I mean, she’s all grown up, that’s all.”

“Yeah, that happens to people,” Shaw said.

Root felt caught between assuring Sameen that there was absolutely nothing behind her feelings for Hanna except as childhood friends. But seeing Shaw jealous and acting tough – was exciting. Still, she would never play her wife’s feelings. “Sweetie, you know we were just friends and it was a long time ago.”

But the protective sequence was already launched and shields were at full capacity. Sameen was going to take care of this… her way.

“Why now?” Shaw asked again as they drove to work. “Why reach out to you now?”

“I haven’t been able to even trace where she’s been,” Root said, looking at her phone. “She was a shy, quiet girl…,”

“The worst kind,” Shaw judged. “You never really know what’s going on with them.”

Root smiled at her wife’s assessment; thinking how Shaw’s skill-set had served her in her life.

“Shaw, I don’t think there’s anything…,” Root tried.

“Good, then she won’t mind talking to your bodyguard first,” Shaw decided.

The not so gentle reminder that Shaw was, indeed, her bodyguard, sent shivers up Root’s spine. She really believed if Shaw could find Hanna, she would see she wasn’t a threat. It did strike her odd that the Machine couldn’t locate her. Root wouldn’t find _that_ glitch until later that afternoon.

Shaw, in the meantime, was going to employ the best people she could to help her. Starting with the woman who texted her three times that… you guessed it… they needed to talk.

Sameen kissed Root goodbye and told her to wait for an update. “If she contacts you, I want to know,” Shaw said and Root agreed.

* * *

“Oh, thank God!” Zoe greeted Shaw when she arrived. “I need to talk to you right away.”

“Sure, of course, Morgan; anything for a friend,” Shaw said and immediately made the Fixer suspicious.

“You hit your head or something?” Zoe asked slowly.

“What do you want?” Shaw asked, no time to entertain the woman.

“I need you to convince my girlfriend that you’re perfectly okay with her since she tazed you. I need you to tell her you’ve never been happier with her, okay? I need you, Shaw, to get the hell out of my bedroom!” It wasn’t as smooth or as eloquent as Zoe had rehearsed, but she was worried Janine would appear any minute. “You do that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

Shaw‘s mouth dropped open about the bedroom comment, but she got back on track quickly. “Anything I want?” Shaw asked, thinking this could work.


	63. Getting By With a Little Help From My Friends

The Fixer, who negotiated deals for a living, realized what she just did. Offering Shaw – anything – in return for curing her girlfriend was coming at a high price. It was only in her afterthought did she think to add some stipulations.

“But if you fail and you’re still in bed with us; the deal’s off,” the usually poised woman misspoke.

“You gotta _stop_ saying that, okay? It’s creeping me out,” Shaw admitted, even though she didn’t quite understand it. Telling Zoe to shut up made Shaw realize she didn’t have a solution to that particular problem. “What is it that you want me to do exactly?” Sameen asked.

But it also made Zoe realize, she wasn’t sure either. “I don’t know! Deputize her or something. Tell her you need her and that you’re perfectly fine with the fact that she tazed you,” Zoe said and if she had left it at that, Shaw wouldn’t have noticed. But Zoe got this smirk on her face that she couldn’t help.

“Are you…? What the hell is that look on your face?” Shaw barked because it was that obvious.

Zoe tried to wipe that look off, but it reminded her that she made passionate love last night to the woman who zapped Sameen Shaw. “Nothing, how… uhm, how does it feel?”

“It’s a burn… on my ass… where I sit… how do you think it feels?” Shaw asked and Zoe worried they were getting off track.

Now, Zoe was biting her lip because the more she tried to refrain from smiling, the larger her smile got.

“How is it that your girlfriend did this to me and yet, you’re a bigger pain in my ass?” Shaw asked pointedly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Zoe said, but it was a full blown giggle now. “It’s just… last night… was really great and it was working in my favor, so to speak, but then you showed up – practically in the middle…”

“OKAY! TMI!” Shaw shouted and put her hands over her ears.

“So, you see _why_ I need you to do this?” Zoe asked and her tone was letting Shaw know, she probably wanted it, too.

“Keep this up and I’ll have to take another shower,” Shaw said, shuddering. “Okay, look… I’ll take care of your girlfriend, but you have to find this chick immediately.”

“Who’s this?” Zoe asked when Shaw showed her the picture of Hanna.

“Her name is Hanna Frey; childhood friend of Root’s,” Shaw said and Zoe watched Shaw’s facial expression change. “She sent Root a book and said she needed to meet with her.”

“How close were they?” Zoe asked.

“How the hell do I know?” Shaw jumped, proving she was not okay with this.

“And… _no one_ … has found her?” Zoe asked, referring to the large machine everyone seemed quite protective of.

Shaw stared at her. “I need _you_ to locate her. If she had that book delivered and she wants to see Root, I’m thinking she’s around here.”

“This is an old license; it says Texas,” Zoe pointed out. “Why would someone not update their license?”

“On the run?” Shaw proposed.

It took Zoe a couple of seconds to put her first steps in order, but once she did, she was ready to go. “Okay, Shaw,” she said, gently slapping the woman on the shoulder and annoying her. “I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

And with that, the Fixer left on her next assignment. Finding someone who didn’t want to be found was a specialty of Zoe’s. It typically cost a client a few thousand dollars. But, if Shaw could do something to alleviate her lover’s worries; well, no price was too high for that.

* * *

Of course, the next person Shaw texted was Fusco. She told him she had a job for him, but he needed to come to her office. “AND DONUTS!” she texted in caps to make sure he got it.

“Would you look at that!” Fusco said, seconds later, already on his way into her office. “You need me,” he smiled.

“That better be…,” she was barking of the bag in his hand.

“Bran muffins; yes, it is,” he interrupted her.

“How… _old_ … are you?” Shaw asked, emphasizing the second word as punishment.

“You’ll thank me in a couple of years,” he said, taking his muffin out and sitting down. “What’s up?”

Shaw considered not telling him; not including him in her caper as retribution for his lack of taste in breakfast foods. “Someone contacted Root last night,” Shaw said, stuffing her hand in the bag, taking out a fiber laden round cake. “This? Is not healthy!” said the Queen of unhealthy breakfasts.

“Who was it?” Fusco asked and opened his coffee cup and added three sugars.

Shaw shook her head and gave in. She sat down and told him about the book and the girl from Root’s childhood.

“You got the package?” he asked and Shaw said that Root had it. “Fingerprints?”

Shaw snapped her fingers and pointed at him. _THIS_ is why she put up with him. “I have to get it back from Root.”

“Have you considered that this is just an old friend in town, wanting to catch up?” the detective proposed.

“Why not just call?” Shaw countered.

“What was the book?” Fusco asked.

“Something about flowers,” Shaw remembered.

“Any meaning?” Fusco asked, because, in spite of the fact he was eating a tasteless lump, this line of questioning was a piece of cake.

“I don’t know,” Shaw barked. “Yeah, wait; it was the book the kid was checking out if the library years ago. Root said her father hit her for being late when he picked her up. If her old man is still here…”

“Her old man? Are you worried…?” Fusco was asking when he saw what even the mere suggestion did to his friend. “Okay, okay…,” he said, putting his hand on her rod-like arm, “… she’s a childhood friend whose father was a bastard. Maybe she ran away, like Root said. Maybe the old man is dead and she’s resurfacing.”

But Sameen couldn’t hear anything. “I will kill him if he even thought of touching her,” she announced.

Fusco sat back in his chair, amazed that his friend never gave thought to the fact that he was an officer of the law; sworn to uphold it and protect citizens from harm. “Did you ask Root?”

“Yes,” Shaw said, unwilling to give up her over-reaction just yet.

“Okay, so let’s find the friend,” Fusco said and Shaw said she had Zoe working on that.

Just then, Reese came into her office. It wasn’t hard for him to hear Shaw yelling from the hallway. “Everything okay, Shaw?”

“We could use Tall, Dark and Looming,” Fusco said, shoving the last bite into his mouth. After hearing how his friend was planning on a possible murder, Fusco thought brute strength like Reese’s would come in handy.

Shaw agreed and gave Reese the update.

“And the Machine couldn’t locate her?” was Reese’s first question.

“That’s what I wanted to know,” Fusco added.

“No, the all-seeing pain in my ass couldn’t,” Shaw answered because she was mad at everyone.

“What’s the plan?” Reese asked because of course, he would help his friend.

“Morgan’s looking for her,” Fusco said.

“Zoe Morgan?” Reese asked, surprised.

“I promised I’d get out of her bedroom,” Shaw summarized the deal and Fusco choked on that last large bit of dry cake.

He choked so hard and loudly, that it interrupted the trio’s scheming.

“Gezzus, Shaw! Warn a guy, could you?” Fusco asked when the clog cleared his passageway. “What does that…never mind. Should I even ask how you’re going to do that?”

Shaw was back to her part of the bargain and wasn’t quite sure about the solution. “I’m going to give her a really important job,” she said, thinking it over.

“Cutting up your food?” Fusco laughed and yelled when Sameen hit his arm. “You know, for a small, petite woman; you got some set a stones to hit a cop.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his friend dismissed him.

Shaw updated Reese on what little she knew and the three friends talked it over. “What are you going to do when you find her?” Fusco asked.

“Talk,” Shaw said and he had a sneaky suspicion she wasn’t using that word in the traditional sense.

She told them how Root had them stop to check on the Machine that morning and wondered if she was concerned her long lost friend could have done something.

* * *

“Good,” Shaw let out when her mother texted that she, Ayala, and Michael were back at the Penthouse; safe and sound.

A little while later, Shaw’s phone rang. She looked at the number and then at her friends. “What took you so long?” she asked, being factious because it was Zoe and not sixty minutes had passed.

“What can I say, Shaw? I’m that good,” Zoe assured her. “Your friend is at the family shelter at 38th and Lexington.”

“You saw her?” Shaw asked, motioning for Fusco and Reese to get ready.

“No, but my contact said he saw a woman who looks like her go inside. You want me to go in there?” Zoe asked.

“No! I’ll be there in five. Right after I straighten out your girlfriend,” Shaw said – letting Zoe know she was honoring her part of the deal.

“And Shaw?” Zoe said to her friend, “I don’t know how, but this guy heard her call out to her father.”

The idea that this woman’s father would be with her, as improbable as that was, sent adrenaline shooting through Shaw’s veins. And then, Shaw knew what the Janine solution was.

“Let’s go,” she said to her trusty assistant who walked in as the trio was leaving.

“Sure,” Janine said, without questioning where they were going. “How are you…?” she was about to ask Sameen when they all got on the elevator.

“Do you know what your job is right now?” Shaw asked the woman.

Janine looked at Fusco and Reese for clues. “No,” she admitted freely.

“Your job,” Shaw said in a very serious tone; “… is to keep me from murdering someone.”

Janine was accepting the assignment before she processed those words. Then, she looked at Fusco and Reese whose expressions clearly indicated they were happy they didn’t have that job.


	64. Root Cause for Concern

Had someone stopped to ask Doctor Campbell’s opinion about the best way to help Janine deal with her Shaw-obsession, taking her on a mission and making her feel special - would _not_ have been in the top ten.

As Janine listened to why they were heading over to a family shelter, she realized that she was included in Sameen’s _selected_ group.

It was going to take Shaw’s direct communication to lessen the infatuation that was going to be a direct result of this rendezvous. Just imagine how smoothly _that_ was going to go.

* * *

“So, this woman is an old friend of Root’s who sent her a book as a way of asking if they could get meet?” Janine summed up in a very suspicious tone. This clearly affirmed for Sameen that something was up.

“See?” she said to Fusco. “Yeah, and it’s cool, you know,” Shaw said, trying to talk herself into being calmer about this _old_ friend.

“Why not just call then? Or send the book, but give her location?” Janine thought out loud.

Whatever reasonableness Sameen was trying to infuse into the situation was immediately obliterated by her assistant’s wise questions.

“ _SEE_?” Shaw said to Fusco again.

“Oh, I _see_ ,” the detective said, noticing how the assistant brought her boss right back to insanity step one.

* * *

When the dynamic quartet arrived at the shelter, Fusco pulled his friend back for a second.  
“Look, you can’t just burst through the door in these places,” Fusco reminded his friend. “You got a lot of skittish people there. All of us marching in will be a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

Reese, too, thought it might be a good idea to stay back until they were needed.

“You expecting weapons, Shaw?” Reese asked, just to be sure.

“Only if she doesn’t answer my questions,” Sameen answered and both men looked at Janine; their expressions clearly wishing the woman good luck.

“Can I give you some advice?” Fusco said to Janine, worried now that he was speaking to the more reasonable of the two.

“Sure,” Janine said, her body language of small twists and turns indicating she was getting ready for battle.

“She don’t do jealousy well,” he said wide-eyed trying to convey ten other messages with that one sentence.

Janine stared at him as if taking her time to read his face. “Got it,” she said when she finished.

And with that, Fusco heard a loud bang – and grimaced. His friend, who had not heeded his advice, was making her entrance. “Go, Robin!” he said to Janine, jerking his head that his friend should not be in there alone.

* * *

Janine was aware that Sameen seemed conflicted about this visit, which meant, she wasn’t just finding Root’s old friend; she was hunting down Root’s old friend.

A large, but rather short, woman at the front desk scowled when she saw Sameen. “Can-I-help-you?” she asked and there wasn’t one of those four words she didn’t over emphasize.

Shaw was already looking over the place. “Yeah, you want to dial that friendly welcome back a little?” Shaw barked and Janine went into action.

She put her slender body between the two human oncoming trains about to slam into one another. “Thank you,” she smiled to the woman, hoping to break her dead stare that was fixated on the person glaring back at her. “We were wondering if we could speak to Hanna Frey?” she asked in such a nice tone that the woman did look at her.

“Not here,” was the response and the woman went back to doing paperwork.

Janine didn’t have to turn around to see how that response went over. She could feel Shaw breathing down her neck. “I got this,” she said to her boss as she put out both arms and blocked the woman’s rush to the desk. “Here’s the thing,” Janine said in a pleasant tone, “… Hanna reached out to… us yesterday and we just want to let her know…”

“What part of ‘ _she ain’t here_ ’ are you having trouble with?” the woman barked again. Except this time, she was leaning over and in Janine’s face. Until Shaw pushed past her.

“Don’t…!” Shaw said, grabbing the woman’s blouse in one hand and putting her index finger in her face to emphasize her message; “… be rude to her.” With that, Shaw let the woman fall by her own weight back into her chair.

“Secur…,” the woman was going to yell, but Shaw cut her off.

“It’s like you _want_ me to hurt you,” Shaw said and Janine cringed that the message could have been a little less threatening.

“I’m telling you, there is no one by that name and even if there was, I couldn’t give out that kind of information!” the woman said, making a good point.

“Okay,” Shaw said, nodding her head, “… see that, I understand.” She then turned to Janine and repeated it. “They can’t give out personal information,” – as if that were going to stop her.

“Of course,” Janine said, annoyed she hadn’t thought of that. She knew any second her boss was going to announce that they were going inside to look around which would give this irritated receptionist plenty of time to call the police. She thought quickly and approached the desk, this time; gently pushing the bull-in-the-china-shop over a little.

“You see, I’m her court appointed lawyer,” Janine began her made up story, “… and this is the last address I got. If she’s not prepared for court, God knows what will happen to her. You know how they are.” Janine wasn’t even sure if anything she just uttered made sense, but it struck a chord with the woman.

“You can go in and look around, but I’m telling you, if that’s her name, she ain’t here,” the woman finally relented. She would have asked for a business card and for drivers’ licenses for ID, but Reese was busy making a commotion in the doorway so that the woman rushed away; allowing Janine and Shaw to proceed.

* * *

“That was…,” Shaw assessed of her friend’s ploy, “… pretty badass.”

“She could snap me like a twig, Shaw,” Janine said, thinking any second now the woman would come looking for them.

“Pffft,” Shaw scoffed because no one was getting near her.

The two women hurried down the short hallway and opened another set of doors that led to a large room, filled with cots where people were resting or sitting up and talking.

“You need something?” a streetwise woman, looking much older than her years, asked Shaw. She could spot the alpha in a group.

“Yeah, I need to know if you know…,” Shaw was asking when the woman gave her a clear look of expectation.

“I don’t talk for nothing,” she said and looked around to make sure no one else was moving in on her mark.

“What?” Shaw barked, because the woman was slowing her down.

“She wants to be… _compensated_ , Shaw,” Janine leaned over and whispered because she had seen enough pan handlers in New York.

“I know that,” Shaw said, because how dare someone think she wasn’t wise to being shaken down for money. “Here,” she said, pushing her hand in and pulling out a twenty. “Hanna Frey.”

The woman made sure she took the bill, folded it in two and shoved it down her blouse for safe keeping, before she said; “Don’t know her.”

Shaw gritted her teeth, more upset that this woman would mistake her for someone who she could pull this on. “If you think I will not reach my hand down there and get my money; oh, and rip your lung out with it, you’re mistaken,” Shaw said and Janine shut her eyes tight at how bad that sounded.

Shaw’s less than smooth entrance caught the attention of some others. The professional con had one more card up her sleeve; one that even Shaw couldn’t avoid.

“PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!” the woman wailed loudly. With that, she clutched her chest and fell back on her cot, curling up in a ball and pretending to cry.

“Holy crap!” Shaw said and Janine was quick enough to put her hands around Sameen’s arms and pull back with all her might. “I’m going to give you a reason…”

“No! Shaw,” she said the way you do when someone is about to make matters worse; a lot worse.

Suddenly, a woman approached the dramatic scene and patted the woman’s shoulder to calm her down. “It’s okay, Mary. No one is going to harm you. But I saw you shake down this lady for money,” she said and the crying immediately stopped.

The yelling, unfortunately, didn’t.

“She did not _shake me_ down,” Shaw bellowed. “Do I look like the kind of person who could be swindled… by her?

Now, the woman turned her attention to the upset visitor. “It’s okay,” she tried to comfort the woman whom she thought was upset for having been taken, “Mary is very good at this.”

“She’s _not_ good at this,” Shaw complained.

“So, you got taken by someone who isn’t even good at it?” a renewed and calmer Mary asked from behind the safety of the worker.

In all that time that Shaw was defending her honor, Janine was noticing something. She nudged her boss and threw her right eyebrow up in the direction she wanted her to pay attention. Shaw understood and did so.

“Can I help you?” the woman smiled, hoping to put an end to the verbal squabble.

Shaw turned to face the woman and moved inches away. “Yeah, you can tell me what the hell you want with my wife!”

“Well, that got right to the point,” Janine said under her breath.

* * *

While things were quickly unraveling downtown, Root was making slow progress uptown.

Having checked on the hardware with Sameen that morning, she was at BEAR running several programs to make sure there were no viruses affecting the Machine. Everything was in order. Root was troubled that the Machine could not locate Hanna Frey. It wasn’t that she was concerned about actually finding the woman. She was more concerned that the Machine seemed unable to do so.

She opened the communications with the Machine.

“Find Hanna Frey,” she instructed and gave her the nine digit social security number.

Lines of code bleeped across her screen, but nothing happened.

This time, Root leaned into the screen to read what the computations were. In nontechnical terms; they were garbage.

“Are you misleading me on purpose?” she asked.

There was silence for a few seconds. ‘ _I am doing what you asked me to do_.’

Two could play this genius game.

“What did I ask you to do?” Root questioned. “And when?”

‘ _When the Yankees were playing the Marlins_ ,’ the Machine answered.

“Yes?” Root said, trying to remember this.

‘I _told Shaw that the chances of the Yankees winning that game were 26.6 percent because of the injured player at bat, the wind velocity that was about to change at the stadium, and that the pitcher was particularly distracted that night based on my body language scan_.’

“Oh, yes,” Root smiled because she remembered Shaw yelling because she couldn’t figure out where to throw the remote to shut the Machine down.

‘ _I had to explain that I do not have a device like Alexa or Siri,_ ’ the Machine said and Root noticed there was a superior tone to her inflection.

“I remember,” Root admitted.

‘ _The Yankees lost,_ ’ the Machine noted.

“Oh, yes, I definitely remember that,” Root said, because of how seriously her wife took the loss.

‘ _You instructed me after that not to inform Shaw about the probability of certain outcomes so that she could be held in suspense about the inevitable.’_

“I remember… something like that,” Root said, not writing down every instruction she gave.

‘ _You told me that it is important to Shaw to feel she is in charge_ ,’ the Machine also reminded her gatekeeper.

“That was another conversation,” Root said, because she had been thinking out loud one day about things.

‘ _I calculated that Shaw has a high probability of meeting Hanna Frey; and a very low chance of anything going wrong_.’

“Oh, sweetie,” Root said with a small s because only Sameen got the capitalized version; “… you probably used thousands of variables to come to that conclusion, didn’t you?”

‘ _Yes_ ,’ the Machine acknowledged. ‘I assessed accessibility, human interactions, agenda on any given day at the location, and weather.’

“Did you also account… for Shaw?” Root wondered.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ the Machine answered because she had a large database of information on the woman whom she studied as part of her prime objective.

“ _That_ … was your first mistake,” Root informed the AI who, by her own calculations, determined she was flawless.


	65. Shaw's Having None of That

Janine knew that, as good as Reese and Fusco were, their commotion tactic would only last so long. This meant she had to hurry things along inside.

Shaw had just pretty much breathed fire at the woman who contacted Root.

“Oh, wow!” Hanna said and smiled broadly at the person who could have seared her in half with her look. “You must be Sam’s wife; Sam! I mean, Sameen, isn’t it? Does she call you Sam, too?” she exclaimed and took Shaw’s hand in hers in spite of the fact that it was still in a fist. “I read about it in the paper, that’s how I knew,” she said to Janine who smiled and stole a glance at the door where she expected the round woman to come barreling through any second.

Janine noted that the clenched hands hadn’t yet relaxed, so she reached out to touch Shaw’s arm. “Shaw,” Janine said, jerking her head at Hanna. “I’m sure there’s a reason.”

“Look, sister, I don’t have time for long explanations, so if you could just tell me what the mystery is about by sending Root a book and all…,” Shaw was saying. Shaw had been trying to calm herself; telling herself that this woman was no threat; but, she was an unknown until last night. _And_ this woman knew Root way before Shaw did.

Instead of being the least bit intimidated or reacting to the pressure of being pressed to talk; the woman laughed. “I guess it’s that obvious!”

“ _I don’t think so_ ,” Janine said under hear breath, hoping any second her boss would catch on. She had to take matters into her own hands. “That’s… a… lovely… cross!” she said, taking the woman’s gold jewelry that hung around her neck, and practically pulled it towards Shaw’s face. “Isn’t it… Shaw?”

Sameen thought that maybe her assistant was asking her to have mercy on the woman. “Yeah, okay, this is how this is going to go,” Shaw said, thinking she better take care of things. “You’re going to tell me why you’re reaching out to my wife. If I like the answer; no one gets hurt; if I don’t like it; I’m not making any promises.” It was the best offer Shaw could come up with.

Janine looked at Hanna, her eyes pleading for her to understand. “Shaw… is… _very_ protective,” she finally said, hoping this wouldn’t upset her boss.

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I admire that and I bet Sam appreciates it,” Hanna said smiling and reaching out to touch Shaw’s arm. Hanna had grown to admire those who came to the aid of others.

For her part, Sameen looked at Janine – her incredulous expression wondering why this woman didn’t understand the threat to her life. “I’m not getting through,” Shaw said to her assistant.

“So, I bet Samantha will be surprised to find out you’re ….,” Janine said, hoping someone would fill in the blank for Shaw.

“I know!” Hanna said. “You mean, in New York, right? I didn’t expect to be here either. But I go where they need me and this shelter really needs some TLC.”

“We do; we really do,” Mary said, chiming in from behind.

All of this was taking too long and finally, the receptionist whipped open the door to see where her intruders were.

Shaw’s look hardened because she knew she was out of time; Janine’s face panicked because she was almost certain part of the answer was already staring Shaw in the face.

“The cross, Shaw; the _cross_ ,” Janine said as she rushed at the oncoming receptionist to intervene. With all her might, she pulled the woman to turn around and explain that she had the wrong woman and that it turned out, Shaw knew the woman she was talking to. “What are the odds?” Janine smiled at the receptionist.

Shaw knew her trusty assistant was trying to tell her something, and figured the cross was a clue. “What is this?” Shaw asked, picking it up with her fingers.

“A cross?” Hanna said, unsure of Shaw’s background.

“Don’t be cute; I know what it is. Why does she keep saying it to me?” Shaw asked, wanting someone to explain what was going on.

Hanna shrugged her shoulders, because she was unsure, too.

“Hey, Sister Barbara…,” the receptionist called out; “… everything okay?”

“Oh, yes, Constance; thank you,” the woman in front of Shaw called back.

Sameen heard her answer and frowned at her. “You’re… a nun?” Shaw asked, not buying it.

“Yes,” Hanna smiled. “Not a popular profession these days, I admit.”

“What’s your racket?” Shaw asked, thinking the woman was under cover or worse, scamming people.

“Oh, you mean the name change?” Hanna laughed. “I was trying to get away from someone, so when they offered me an opportunity to change my name, I took it.”

Hanna was being vague on purpose. She didn’t expect that this woman, who had invaded her personal space, was going to put it all together.

“Where is your father?” Shaw asked, her eyes narrowed.

“My father?” Hanna asked surprised. “Long gone.”

“Okay,” Shaw said and could hear what was going on behind her with Janine.

“How is Samantha?” Hanna asked.

“She’s good; very good,” Shaw said, shoving her hands in her pockets and trying to decide her next move.

“I would love to get together if you are both free,” Hanna exclaimed.

“She’d like that,” Shaw said and it was more because she was thinking it over from Root’s point of view. “Can you come to dinner tonight?”

Janine returned just in time to hear Shaw extend the invitation. “So, we’re all good here?” she asked.

Sameen looked the woman up and down and determined she was no threat. “We’re good,” Shaw confirmed.

Hanna said she would love to come to dinner and Shaw said she’d let Root know.

“Root; is that her nickname?” Hanna asked and that actually made Shaw feel better that she didn’t know that.

“No, that’s her name,” Shaw explained, her tone still unfriendly. “Are you a real…?”

“Nun? Yes,” Hanna replied.

“She’s a nun,” Shaw informed Janine, who caught onto that a while ago.

“You don’t say,” Janine replied.

“I’m not telling Root that,” Shaw said, not wanting any part of that.

With that, the two women emerged and waved to the receptionist as they left.

* * *

“Everything okay in there? No clean-up on aisle five? No bodies or anything?” Fusco asked when Shaw walked out.

“No,” Shaw answered. “She’s a nun,” she said and watched for Fusco and Reese’s expression.

“You didn’t…?” Reese started to ask, but hesitated.

“Geez, Shaw; you didn’t rough up a nun, did you?” Fusco asked more bluntly.

Sameen glared at him as if such a thing were out of the question. “I’m going to wait on that.”

“Good idea,” Reese said.

“Well, don’t rush to thank us for buying you some time in there,” Lionel complained.

* * *

 

“Hi Sweetie,” Root said when Shaw picked up her phone. “You busy?”

“Are you okay?” Shaw asked immediately.

“Yes, I was going to ask you the same thing,” Root added.

“I found your friend,” Shaw said. “I invited her to dinner.”

“Oh, that’s great! Thank you!” Root said, excited to see her old friend.

“How come you never told me about her?” Shaw asked, in the car on the way back and her three friends all tried to move as far away from that conversation as they could; in spite of being confined in the same car. Fusco started whistling, and John opened his window. Janine busied herself on her phone.

But they were forgetting the special thing that Root and Shaw shared. They could ask each other any question and they would always get an honest answer.

“I buried that a long time ago, Sameen. I always felt responsible somehow and never had a chance to make it right. I was hiding it from myself long before you,” Root answered truthfully.

“No more hiding, okay, Root?” Shaw asked.

For the first time in her life, Root knew she had someone who could love all the parts of her; even the ones she feared were her darkest.

“No more,” Root agreed and calmed her Sameen down immediately. “I’m so pleased you two got to meet!”

“I didn’t say I liked her yet, Root,” Shaw cautioned her wife.

“Well, let’s revisit that after dinner,” Root said, knowing the old Hanna would be the kind of person Sameen would like.


	66. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

As soon as Shaw returned to BEAR, Root was waiting for her. If people didn’t think Shaw did _jealousy_ well; it was only second to feeling _foolish_. And that’s what she was wrestling with when she saw Root. Just the sight of the taller woman, standing at the end of the hallway waiting, was enough to calm her nerves. Root didn’t just wait; she stood there slightly swaying. It was her entire being’s way of saying how much she missed Shaw. Now, Shaw felt stupid for even doubting that Root felt something for Hanna that would threaten them. She didn’t do that feeling well either.

As she walked towards her wife; Shaw felt the warmth of that steady gaze Root held her in.

“You know, I’m feeling so stu…,” she got out before Root couldn’t hold back.

Root reached out and pulled Sameen forcefully by the lapels of her leather jacket, right into her waiting lips. It not only quelled Shaw’s uneasiness, it took her brain offline for a minute.

“I…,” Shaw uttered to explain, but that was all she got out.

“We need to talk,” Root said, but she was the only person to say that phrase without making Shaw want to throw up.

“Okay,” Sameen said and followed when Root took her by the hand to the private conference room.

“You see that?” Janine said to Martine when she saw her boss following Root. “I want that.”

“We _all_ want that,” Martine smiled, because she understood.

* * *

“I saw your friend,” Shaw said, her thoughts starting to congeal again as she sat down next to Root.

“That was very sweet of you to find her,” Root said. “And to invite her to dinner.”

“Yeah,” Sameen said, but it wasn’t a complete thought.

“What is it?” her wife asked, knowing that Shaw was hesitating.

“Look, I don’t know the woman, but I’m not buying the goody-two-shoes image she’s got going,” Shaw summed up and then, waited.

“Goody-two-shoes?” Root smiled at the description. “Hanna sort of was that growing up… until.”

“Root, please tell me what her deal is; she’s coming over and if I get the slightest vibe that she’s trying to pull something in our home, I’m very likely going to snap her in two,” Shaw said truthfully and then sat up straight.

What Root heard and saw was her woman protecting her and Michael. No one had ever protected Root and the depth to which this touched her was almost inexpressible. Looking deeply into Shaw’s eyes, Root spoke now; “Do you know that every road I ever took, every bad foster family I was with, every night alone and scared, brought me to you?”

“What?” Shaw asked, unable to change emotions as quickly as her wife could.

“All of that…,” Root said, taking Shaw’s hands, “… never made sense to me, until I realized, it was all bringing me… to you.”

“You mean, like we were _destined_ to meet and all?” Shaw asked to make sure she understood.

“Absolutely,” Root smiled, certain of it.

“Yeah, okay,” Shaw agreed.

And then, switching gears again, Root sat back in the chair. “Hanna killed her father,” is how she segued right back to the past.

“Holy crap!” Shaw said, not because she didn’t think the abuser deserved it, but because goody-two-shoes did it. “How?”

Root let out a long sigh, recalling the details. “His jail stay didn’t do anything to improve his rotten personality. He was released on a technicality in the shoddy police work and returned home, pending a retrial. He attacked Hanna’s mother and Hanna hit him with a frying pan; killing him instantly. My mother had passed by this time and I was in the system, staying with a foster family. When she told me, I went to her house and we… got rid of his body.”

“How?” asked the woman who had done her fair share of making sure bodies weren’t ever found.

“Buried him in the woods. Police assumed he ran before his retrial. No one really looked for him,” Root said uneasily.

“What about her mother?” Shaw asked because you always questioned who knew what when disposing of family members.

“She had been knocked unconscious by one of his blows. She figured he took off to avoid arrest,” Root answered.

“Good,” Shaw replied and was sorry Root had to be involved in something like that at such an early age.

“I got moved around and Hanna and her mother left to start a new life. We lost touch,” Root summed up.

“What’s with the book?” Shaw asked.

“It’s the book Hanna used to check out of the library; a sad story about a mentally challenged boy who is experimented on to increase his intelligence. Algernon is the mouse who they tested first who eventually…” Root was saying when Shaw put her finger to Root’s lips. She couldn’t bear to hear any more sad words falling from those lips.

“You know that I will always take care of you, right?” Shaw asked, cutting past old stories to get at Root’s deepest fear. “I will always protect you and Michael.”

“Yes,” Root smiled and leaned her head in and pressed it against Sameen’s head. “You are the one thing that makes me feel like I belong,” she whispered to Sameen.

“Yeah, well, you’re my safe place,” Shaw replied.

“We make a good pair,” Root said, looking up now into dark pools of calm.

The couple sat for a few more minutes, staring into each other’s eyes and basking in the love that bound them for life.

It was only after they broke their gaze, did Shaw remember what she promised Zoe. “I have to go.”

“Where are you off to?” Root asked as they stood up.

“I have to perform a surgery,” the former doctor said cryptically.

* * *

“We have to talk,” Shaw said, using the phrase herself, instead of hearing it directed at her.

Janine shot out of her seat and followed her boss into the inner cubicle. Then, as was often the case, she sat there in the chair Sameen pointed to, with rapt attention. “Yes?” she finally asked, but Sameen was still figuring out the best way to do this.

Thinking back to when she actually did surgeries, Shaw snapped her finger with her lead question and sat down. “You know if there’s a pain… like here…,” was her segue opening line as she placed her hand over her upper right abdomen.

Janine’s eyes got wide and a frightened look came over her.

“And the only way to survive, is to cut it out,” said the woman, often criticized for her lack of tact.

“Yes,” Janine said, bracing for the horrible news she was convinced was moments away.

“Well, it’s not pleasant and if you had your choice, you’d want to stay the same, but it’s not the healthy thing to do, right? So, you have to cut it out,” Shaw said with a ‘there!’ tone to her voice.

“Oh, God. When?” Janine asked.

“Now; or soon, you know. The sooner the better,” Shaw explained.

Janine stared at her boss to see if she could see any sign of her being ill. “You’re not going to do it, are you?” she worried that her boss might take things into her own hands.

“No, of course not,” Shaw said with disdain. “ _You_ are.”

Janine had been feeling really good about being elevated to Sameen’s hand-picked team, but being designated as the one who would cut her open was more than she could handle… and she passed out.

“What the hell?” Shaw asked, quick enough to catch her before she fell out of the chair. “This is going to be tougher than I thought,” Shaw said, gently shaking the woman to bring her back to consciousness.

As soon as she was revived, Janine looked down into the eyes of the woman who was kneeling in front of her and holding her in place. “Shaw, I can’t…,” she was trying to explain.

“It’s okay; we’ll figure something out, okay?” Shaw was comforting the woman.

“Okay,” Janine said and took the water bottle Sameen offered.

Perhaps if Shaw had time, the two would have realized that they were on two different pages. Maybe Shaw could have explained that Janine had to loosen the tether between them, and Janine would have realized that she wasn’t asking her to remove an organ in distress. But Sameen had an appointment and didn’t clear that miscommunication up.

* * *

What Shaw also didn’t have time for was listing all the examples of how she thought she was doing Doctor Campbell’s job. But she went back to see her anyway. She actually had something she wanted to discuss.

“I know you asked to see me and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why because I think I made it clear how there is a long list of people in need of your help,” Shaw began, as she came in and flopped down on the couch.

“Yes, you did…,” Iris was agreeing, but there wasn’t even time for that.

“But it turns out, I need to talk to you anyway,” Shaw said, because she was in touch with her reaction to Hanna Frey.

“Oh?” Iris said, her hands folded and never reaching for the pad or pen before it was time.

“An old friend of Root’s is in town and I met with her. Actually, I tracked her down with Fus…some friends… and met her,” Shaw said, smiling uncomfortably at that almost slip. “She and Root were friends when they were kids and lost touch. She sent Root a book and a note,” Shaw continued. “The next day, I found out where she was and went to see her.”

“Did Root know?” Iris asked.

“Yes,” Shaw confirmed.

“Why did you want to see her…,” and she almost said alone, but she knew her boyfriend was certainly with her. “…without Root?”

“Root makes me think things through; makes me calmer. I didn’t want to be calm,” Shaw said truthfully. “And I also wanted to make sure this chick’s intentions are good.”

“Are they?” Iris asked first.

“That’s the thing, Doc,” Shaw said, looking into attentive light blue eyes, “… I never think people’s intentions are good. If I don’t know them. Actually, sometimes, even when I do know them. Anyway, I could feel myself wanting to grab this woman and shake her, you know, to see if she was doing right by Root,” Shaw confessed.

“And did you?” Iris had to ask because she knew her client was capable of being forceful.

“No, I brought Janine with us to make sure I didn’t,” Shaw said smiling.

“Janine?” Iris blurted out because it didn’t fit.

“I know, right?” Shaw commented. “But she’s good. Anyway, it was good to have her there and I eventually realized I was being irrational and jealous and maybe overreacting. I just didn’t know about this woman and she came out of nowhere. I felt jealous,” Shaw repeated, because even she knew that was an unusual emotion for her to have.

“What were you feeling jealous of?” Iris asked.

“That she knew Root, when she was young. Root had a lifetime before me, you know,” Shaw said.

“As did you?” Iris asked, gently pointing that out.

“Yeah, I guess,” Shaw acknowledged.

“Have you talked to Root?” the therapist queried.

“Yes, and I told her how stupid I felt, but Root, you know her; she won’t let me give into that stuff. She’s always assuring me,” Shaw smiled.

“And do you feel assured?” Iris asked.

“About this I do. I’ll know better tonight how I feel about Hanna,” Shaw explained.

“Then, I look forward to meeting again tomorrow,” Iris said.

“Okay, sure,” Shaw said and it wasn’t until she was out of the office and down the hallway did she realize that she had agreed to meet again. “She’s good,” Shaw laughed to herself about the woman.

* * *

Root and Shaw were home preparing for the arrival of their dinner guest. Sameen had some very definite ideas; including that her mother should take Michael to her house to babysit. She also told Isabelle to cook something – ‘good; but not too good,’ - since she still wasn’t sure how she felt about her dinner guest.

“You know, don’t make something that says – ‘ _we’re really happy you’re here and can’t wait to do it again,_ ’ – was how Sameen described the menu.

Then, when Hanna arrived, Shaw watched as Root rushed to embrace her and the two old friends hugged and said how happy they were.

“Okay,” Shaw said, looking down at Bear who had been instructed to be ready at a moment’s notice. “Maybe we like her.”

Bear wasn’t buying Shaw meant that just yet. He did, for his part, assure Shaw that he didn’t sense anything negative about the woman.

Sameen smiled awkwardly when Root made the formal, albeit unnecessary, introductions. But she had to admit; she liked when Root took her hand and said to Hanna; “I’d like you to meet my wife, Sameen. She’s the love of my life; my raison d'être,” Root smiled and in that moment, as she stared at her, Sameen felt there was no one else in the world, but the two of them.

* * *

As dinner was getting underway at the Penthouse, Zoe sat across from Janine in a quiet, romantic restaurant in midtown. Janine was recounting part of the day since it was Zoe who was able to find Hanna in the first place.

Zoe laughed when she realized that her contact probably overheard Hanna speaking to a priest and not her own father. She appreciated the update, but kept expecting the conversation to turn away from Sameen. But being involved in her caper and helping her out, did little to dissuade Janine from talking about her boss. She didn’t mean to; she just kept thinking of parts of the story to tell Zoe.

Zoe smiled politely, but started to count how many times the other woman’s name came up in the conversation. When it hit twenty-five, she reached across the table and took Janine’s hand and said;

“Honey, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”


	67. Coming Together; Falling Apart

Janine pushed back in her seat, propelled there by Zoe’s pointed words. “You can’t do… _what_?” she asked, a long pause between each of those words.

“This…,” Zoe said, her finger now waving between them. She could see the still surprised look on the younger woman’s face. “I want you; and I want us, but there’s no room for Shaw. I’m not going to be the reason you two break up, so I’m… leaving.” Zoe smiled as pleasantly as she could manage and showed none of the heartache she was feeling over this decision.

Janine was stunned. She thought she was sharing with the woman in her life, what a good friend Shaw was. “Are you saying I can’t be friends…?”

“No!” Zoe said and took the woman’s hand again. This time she could feel the tension. “No. I get it; Shaw’s a great gal,” she said, a word that revealed her age. “I like Shaw as well as the next person, probably even more. But I don’t want to date Shaw; and whenever we’re together, I feel like she’s here.”

Janine’s eyes watered and her breathing labored as she pulled her hand back and clenched both of them together in her lap. “She’s… my…friend… my boss!” she tried as if to explain why she couldn’t cut Sameen out of her life.

Her attempt fell flat on the table. Zoe was a wise woman who saw an excuse when it came her way. “Yes, and I get the whole admiration thing, I really do. But it’s crowded in here and it’s not what I want,” said the woman who was mature enough to know what that was most of the time. “I’m sorry; I really am.”

For a second, Janine could see the sadness on Zoe’s face, but her own anger pushed that away. Silence fell between them as she tried to sort out her choices. She felt pushed, and it was happening just as she was still coming off her high of helping Shaw, when she got slammed with this.

But Zoe wasn’t waiting. Not because she didn’t want Janine to have time to sort this through, but because she didn’t want to cry.

“This has been…,” she said, folding her napkin and placing on the table and standing up, “… really nice,” she said, bending down to kiss Janine’s cheek that was already tear stained.

With that, Zoe stood tall and walked out to get a car to go home. She swiped her own card in the machine on the way out and told the waiter to charge it for the meal and tip. Then, she waved down the next taxi and got in the back seat. When she told him the address, she was surprised that her voice cracked with emotion.

* * *

Inside, Janine sat at the table. Her head swirled and hurt at the same time. Her chest felt like someone had punched her. She was a mix of hurt and anger; Zoe’s word still pressing down on her like weights. She started to feel like someone was cutting off her oxygen and knew she had to get outside.

Zoe Morgan had left her! Janine’s mind raced as she collected her things and herself to leave. Was she right? Did she talk too much about Shaw? But, it was Shaw! She got outside and took a deep breath, but it hardly helped. Her hand now plastered against her forehead, she paced outside, trying to figure out what to do. Her first thought was to call Sameen, but she knew she couldn’t.

Or could she?

* * *

Hanna Frey had made her way into the dining room where Root and she were still complimenting each other on not having changed a bit.

“Look at you; CEO of a tech company! I read about you all the time,” Hanna gushed of Root’s success.

“The notoriety seems unavoidable,” said the woman who never cared for it.

The three women sat at the table; Root across from Hanna; Shaw to the right of Root. She sat back and sipped her beer, watching the two friends.

“What have you been doing?” Root asked as Isabelle poured white wine into the two glasses.

“This should be good,” Shaw said under her breath to Isabelle… and the canines. Shadow had joined Bear in the hallway greeting. Hanna made a fuss over them and both concurred, there was nothing about her that warranted their concern. .

“Well,” Hanna said, looking over at Shaw who smiled back, “… you know the hot mess I came from, Sam. After my mother and I left, things got better, but they were never really okay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Root said and Shaw watched as her wife’s expression got serious. Sameen’s expression never altered as she continued to size the guest up.

“It took a few years, but I got my act together, went to college and got married. To a louse,” Hanna summed up, shrugging her shoulders.

“Oh, Hanna,” Root said and put her hand across the table to touch her friend’s hand for a second.

“No, it was okay; we parted ways, or more like it; I ran,” Hanna smiled. “I decided to work with shelters that housed battered women and families. Turned out, the one I was working out was run by the Sisters of Charity. I kept asking them questions and they kept giving me answers and one day, I decided to join them!” Hanna concluded with excitement in her voice.

Root’s head jerked back at the news. “You’re a…nun?” she asked astonished.

“Yes! Can you believe it?” Hanna said smiling.

“Hardly,” Shaw murmured to herself, as the bottle went to her lips.

Root slipped her hand under the table onto Shaw’s knee with a gentle squeeze. In that one tiny motion, Root told her – _I hear you, it’s okay, we got this_. Sameen took a deep breath, smiling at the guest, and started to relax.

“What made you…?” Root was asking and Hanna was already answering.

“I guess, you know, to try and make amends for things I had done,” Hanna said, pursing her lips uncomfortably. She was looking right at Root when she said it. Root understood what she was asking.

“Shaw knows _everything_ ,” Root answered.

A real smile appeared on Sameen’s face for the first time that night. She liked what Root said. She glanced over at Bear to make sure he heard that.

‘ _Of course, I heard it; you know my hearing is exceptional_ ,’ he barked at her.

His sudden barking made Hanna laugh and broke the tension. Root asked about Hanna sending the book; not for her curiosity, but Shaw’s.

“Remember that was the book I always checked out, right? Well, I wasn’t sure you’d even want to see me, so I thought I’d send that first,” Hanna explained.

Soon, Isabelle brought in the meal and served it. “Oh, this looks delicious,” Hanna exclaimed of the individual pizza’s that Root asked her to make. It was the meal the two young girls shared often.

Shaw looked down and then up at her chef; her expression all but asking: ‘ _Is this it_?’

“There’s more in the kitchen if you’re still hungry,” she whispered with a smile and a wink.

“That wink means meat, right?” Shaw asked conspicuously.

“Yes,” Isabelle whispered back.

The women started to eat their meals and continued talking. Shaw listened as Root asked about Hanna’s life; and paid close attention to her questions to Root.

“I am sorry I didn’t get to meet Michael!” she said of the baby who was being watched over by her grandmother.

“I know I’m biased…,” Root blushed, “… but she is beautiful.”

“Oh, if she looks like either of you, I’m sure she is,” Hanna agreed.

* * *

Shaw took note that she wasn’t getting any weird vibe from the guest who laughed and talked with Root. She excused herself to make sure Isabelle meant beef, when she said meat. She was in mid-bite of a piece of London broil that she had just stabbed with a knife, much to Isabelle’s horror, when her phone rang.

“I can… cut it,” she was offering when Shaw pulled off a big bite of the slice of meat dangling on the blade.

“Harow?” she said into the phone. All she heard was someone crying on the other end and trying to convey something in a high pitched voice. “Oo-ee effed you? What?” Shaw barked.

Janine was on the other end of that call, unable to stop the flood of tears that fell, after connecting with the one person she thought would help her. Several sniffles later, she was composed enough to apologize and tell Shaw what happened. “She’s right, you know; I talk about you all the time,” Janine said.

Shaw got wide-eyed as she shook her head and put her hand out as if to ask – “ _What do you want me to do about this?”_

Isabelle could hear the distraught woman on the phone and knew Sameen was at a loss. Time for more London broil. She cut another slice and handed it to her – on the knife.

“Okay, listen,” Shaw said, with renewed calmness and another mouthful of the meat; “… she’s being a jerk. But, and I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but, in her defense, she has been kind of pointing this out. This is what I was telling you today,” Shaw explained as she munched on the next oversized bite of meat.

Isabelle reviewed in her head the various steps of the Heimlich maneuver. Just in case.

“Today?” Janine asked surprised.

“Remember, when I said I thought you should cut the cord?” Shaw reminded her friend.

“I thought you wanted me to perform surgery on you!” Janine exclaimed in horror.

“Surgery? On me? No..,” Shaw said, rolling her eyes at Isabelle at how wrong her assistant was. “I was suggesting, and I thought my example was really clear, that you should ease up on the talking about me.”

“I didn’t get that at all,” Janine said, and was sorry she didn’t decipher her friend’s prudent advice sooner. “What do I do, Shaw?”

“Do you love her? Or even kind of like her, because Zoe can be a pain…,” Shaw was asking.

“YES!” Janine cut her off.

Isabelle handed Sameen the next piece of meat as she bestowed her wisdom. “Then, go to her place and let her know. And not it that cute flowers and candy way you do things,” Shaw suggested strongly. “Go straighten her out, Janine. She needs to see you demonstrate that you mean it.”

“Demonstrate,” Janine repeated.

“Here’s something else I can’t believe I’m going to say…,” Shaw said between chews; “… don’t let her go, Janine. Some days I’m not sure she deserves you…,” Shaw said, turning to look back in the direction of the living room where she could hear Root and Hanna laughing, “… actually, most days; but, I think she really cares about you.”

“Yes,” Janine said, because her friend spoke the truth.

“Don’t take no for an answer then,” Shaw said, thinking that’s what she would do if someone dumped her.  No one every had, so she was winging it. 

Janine thanked her and pulled herself together. She got in a cab and headed to Zoe’s apartment.

“You’re good,” Isabelle said of the mediator chewing on another piece of the tender meat before returning.

“I do what I can,” Shaw said and went back in to see Root and their guest.

Sitting down next to Root again, Shaw decided to ask Hanna a question that hadn’t come up yet.

“So, no sex… _ever_?” Shaw asked of the typical lifestyle choice for nuns.

Now, it was Hanna who was choking a bit on her food.


	68. Every Body Deserves the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Not sure about that title - lol. Misspelled on purpose.

When Isabelle heard someone choking, she poked her head in to make sure they didn’t need her for the chest thrust maneuver. But, it turned out it was Hanna, coughing when she was caught off guard by Sameen’s blunt question about sex - or the lack thereof.

“No,” she laughed.

“I mean, I know it’s possible,” Shaw said and should have stopped there; “… I went for ages without it,” she added and now drew her wife’s attention.

“It’s a small price to pay,” Hanna said, explaining, “… I proved more than once I was terrible at picking out partners. Besides, I accepted it after deciding this was what I really wanted.”

“We’ll get back… _to you_ … later,” Root smiled at Shaw. “Well, it sounds like you really landed where you wanted to be,” she said to her friend.

“You, too,” Hanna smiled as she looked at Shaw.

“Oh yes,” Root said, slightly distracted by her wife’s words. “She’s perfect. Everything okay in there?” Root asked Shaw of her long visit to the kitchen.

“Yeah, just firing up the torpedoes,” Sameen answered in conveying how she helped Janine.

* * *

When dinner was over, the women went into the living room, where Isabelle served dessert and coffee. There were more stories about how Root and Hanna would stay late at the library and how everyone knew – even then – that Root was a genius.

“All you had to do was watch her play _Oregon Trail_ ,” Hanna said, “… and you just knew, she not only knew how to play; she knew how to outsmart it!”

Shaw smiled and looked over at Root; trying to imagine her as a young girl. But it was hard for her to do that, without thinking of what Root went through. It never dawned on a young Sameen to use technology to handle her own situation; she used her anger to fight back. This is why she felt so protective of a woman who didn’t always need protecting.

The reminiscing continued and there was nothing that came up that raised any flags for Sameen. And yet, she found it difficult to relax. _Had she not just instructed Janine to follow her own instincts and go after Zoe Morgan? Why was she struggling with the feeling that something was not right? Root gave no indication that she was uncomfortable. And by all indications, Hanna appeared to be nothing more than an old friend catching up._

Bear was exhausted from reading both women. He easily sensed Shaw’s tension, but it conflicted with Root’s calmness. ‘ _I wish one of them would make up my mind,_ ’ he groaned to Shadow.

“So, Sam; where did the nickname, _Root_ , come from?” Hanna finally got around to asking.

“Well, as you know, _root_ is the user name or account that by default has access to all commands and files in an operating system,” Root explained. “When I became a professional hacker, I needed a name so…”

“I thought it was the top most directory in the hierarchy, like the trunk of a tree, as the starting point where all the branches originate?” Shaw proffered. She may have impressed Hanna with her insight, but it was Root who suddenly found her wife incredibly irresistible as she spoke. Sameen caught Root’s stare immediately. “What? I can do nerd.”

Hanna laughed, but Root’s eyes were burning through Shaw’s clothes. “Yes, you can,” Root said, almost out of breath.

“Anyway,” Shaw said, getting back to what had been nagging at her all night. She smiled and leaned forward in her place on the couch. “I want to know what the hell is really going on here.”

Root seemed surprised by Shaw’s question, but trusted that it was her instincts that were compelling her to ask. She turned to look at her friend, to see what her reaction was.

Hanna had only spent a short time with Shaw… and she wasn’t in the least bit surprised that she finally got around to asking the question – again.

* * *

While Sameen was working her way through that nagging feeling, Janine was rushing to Zoe’s apartment. Shaw’s words of advice were all the fuel she needed to act on her own feelings. But Sameen’s heavy hand could have over loaded the more demure woman. “No!” she said as she paced outside of Zoe’s apartment. “I have to do this my way.”

She didn’t realize it at the time, but she was already loosening the cord.

* * *

If it weren’t for the fact that Zoe was good at shutting down her emotions, she would have been a mess after deciding to walk out on the only person she ever truly loved. “What the hell were you thinking?” is the question that dogged her all the way home. But now that she was back in her pristine, sterile apartment, it was easy to shut down. It wasn’t that she felt threatened by her lover’s attachment to Shaw; it was the fact that she felt smothered by it. She even understood, she thought, why Janine looked up to Shaw so much. She was a strong woman, a good friend, and she made Janine feel special. Zoe wasn’t going to issue an ultimatum, but she didn’t have to make room for a third person all the time.

No, this was for the better, she tried to convince herself.

She was shutting the lights off, wondering how long the pain would last from closing this chapter in her life, when the doorbell rang. For a spilt second, she wondered if it was Shaw, following through on her promise to harm her if she ever made Janine cry. It would be fitting, but it would only prove her point.

She opened the door to her brownstone apartment and saw Janine standing there, her eyes red from recent crying; but her chin pointing out as she held her head up. She watched as Janine’s body swayed a little, her face twitching as she tried to put everything into words.

Where to begin?

It began, it seemed to Zoe, with Janine stomping her foot!

“I know I screwed up, Zoe Morgan,” Janine yelled. “But you! You gave up on us! You walked away and put up your wall, that you’re very good at erecting. You left me – sitting there - because you didn’t believe I could change. Well, I can! And I think that what we have is special. Special enough to deserve another chance. Change doesn’t happen overnight, you know. But if you care, really care for someone, the way I care for you, then it can happen.”

And then, the woman who was a mix of angst, anger, and anxiety, stopped talking. She waited while the older woman, the wiser, more experienced woman, took in her words. Zoe wasn’t the kind of person not to admit when someone showed her the error of her ways.

“You’re right,” she said, in a low voice, laced in sincerity.

“Damn right, I am!” Janine responded, not yet aware that there wasn’t going to be a fight. “Oh,” she said, in a calmer voice. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you’d think about that, then.” She figured she had said what she needed to say and would leave.

But she felt the gentlest tugs that stopped her progression.

“Please stay,” Zoe said smiling.

And proving that she was, indeed, standing there of her own accord and on her own two feet, Janine answered; “Only if you agree what we have deserves a second chance.”

Zoe was smart enough to admit that perhaps she had added to the issue, by always assuming Janine was shadowing her friend. But standing there, defiant and determined, she realized that Janine was standing alone.

“I do,” Zoe agreed.

Janine nodded her head and took a step closer, and Zoe stepped closer to her, as if truly meeting her halfway. “Thank you,” Zoe said and pulled her into a gentle, sweet kiss.

“I missed you,” Janine said, staring into Zoe’s eyes.

And to prove that she was letting walls down, Zoe admitted she felt the same way. But this time, she let the emotion rise in her throat and cried her response. “Me, too.”

* * *

Back in the Penthouse, Janine’s mentor was following through on her own feelings and was staring down at the dinner guest. Hanna had the distinct impression; Sameen would stay in that position all night if she needed to. She had come to tell her old friend something, but wasn’t sure how to do it. She was enjoying their time and hated to dampen it with this upsetting news. But, she could tell, she wasn’t getting out of there until Root’s wife was satisfied.

“Sam…,” Hanna said, looking at her old friend, “… they’re going to put up a building where the wooded area is. They’ve already found the body.”


	69. Keeping an Eye on Things

The period had not landed at the end of Hanna’s sentence when Root’s hand shot out to hold Sameen back.

“You know what we call you in _my_ business, Sister?” Shaw barked and now Bear knew to sit up at attention. “A liability. Do you want to know what _my_ background is? I take care of liabilities!”

Hanna was smart enough to know that the only thing that was between her and a whole lot of harm was Root. “Sam?” she said and the question really was – ‘ _Will you, or can you, hold her back_?’

“Sameen,” Root said in the gentlest, yet most definite, of ways. “Tell us what happened, Hanna.”

“That wooded area in Bishop was left alone for years. I would check on it every once in a while, but no one had done anything about it. Then, I got a notice from my high school, about a reunion, and they talked about the changes in the community and how some big conglomerate was building a large office on the edge of town. Turned out to be on top of those woods and that’s when they discovered a body a couple of days ago,” Hanna explained.

Her tale did nothing to calm Shaw down, whose mind was racing on how to take care of this. The least knowledgeable about crime scenes was the first to offer up a solution.

“I’ve already decided to confess when they come. And I’ll just say I had borrowed your sweater or something to explain why your DNA might be there,” Hanna said and covered her face with her hands.

“Let’s not confess to anything just yet,” Root said and both women looked at her. “I think it’s important that we… _all_ … agree your father would have continued to do serious harm to you and your mother and that we felt compelled to dispose of the body,” Root thought through. “I’ll go…,” Root was starting to say when her wife told her in no uncertain terms, she wasn’t setting foot in the great state of Texas.

“HELL NO!” Shaw said.

“O…kay, then,” Root sort of conceded, “… we’ll do it remotely.”

“Sam, it’s a matter of time,” Hanna said.

Root wasn’t as concerned about Hanna’s worries as she was about Shaw’s actions. Turning to her wife, Root suggested that … _SHE_ … could help.

“Are you kidding me?” Shaw snapped. “She… couldn’t find a nun!”

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” Root confessed and noticed that Sameen was staring and waiting for an explanation of what that meant. Root’s head swayed a little, her eyes looked away and she took Shaw’s hand. “She was giving you an opportunity to find Hanna.” Root was not at all surprised when that news didn’t go over well at all.

Shaw shot like a bullet straight up. “She was giving _me_ …? She _was_ … I swear to God, Root; I will rip her mother-freaking-board to shreds with my own hands!” she promised.

Hanna just stared, confused, but not entirely sorry Sameen’s focus seemed to be on some other woman.

“Sweetie, we’ll deal with that later, okay? I just need to tweak her program,” Root pleaded and only she could make the angry Persian retake her seat.

“Tweak her program,” Shaw spat in disgust, “… like we haven’t done that before.”

“She gets… confused… when I give her contradicting instructions,” Root took a second out to explain. Hanna thought they were talking about another woman; a friend, perhaps, whom they thought could help.

“Root, _confused_ …,” Shaw said, using the dreaded air quotes, “… is what I am when I wake up and there’s only three selections for breakfast. She… is simply being manipulative.”

“Okay, well, we will address that, I promise,” Root said calmly. “But for now, I think we need to at least consult her on what options we have.”

“Sam, can I ask who this woman is?” Hanna interjected.

“No!” Shaw barked as Root was opening her mouth.

“I think an explanation of sorts would help quiet Hanna’s fears,” Root explained to Sameen, who stared as she thought it over.

“Fine!” Shaw rolled her eyes, giving in to Root’s request.

“I have a program; it’s rather… intelligent…,” Root started.

“I’m not surprised. I always died of dysentery in _The Oregon Trail_ game and you beat it every time,” Hanna segued back to their past and annoyed Shaw.

“Eyes here,” Shaw said and pointed to Root.

“Sorry,” Hanna apologized.

As Root explained, in the simplest of terms, that she had a computer capable of finding out information, Sameen watched their guest. Having confirmed her suspicions that her arrival could mean trouble, Shaw wasn’t let this woman out of her sight.

At the end of her informative update, Root suggested that they wait at least twenty-four hours before acting on anything.

“I trust you, Sam; to know what’s best. But please don’t implicate yourself any further into my mess,” Hanna said sincerely.

“I’ll drive you home,” Shaw said, in a voice that was so friendly, both of the other women looked at her.

“We both can,” Root suggested and Sameen couldn’t think of a reason to exclude her.

Oh, except her desire to threaten Hanna with harm. Shaw knew, and Root knew, that she wanted to express that to Hanna.

Hanna actually let out a sigh of relief that she wasn’t going alone with Shaw. But Sameen let Root know, her presence wasn’t going to make her stop.  
“I know, Sweetie,” Root said, kissing the lips that wanted to spew venom.

The couple drove Hanna back to her residence at the shelter. That kiss, and Root’s willingness not to get in her way, had worked to calm Shaw down.

“Okay, _look_ ,” Sameen said, turning to face Hanna in the back seat, who had hoped to get out without any more threats. “… You do exactly as Root says, okay?”

“Of course,” Hanna agreed.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Root said, squeezing her friend’s hand to let her know all was okay.

Hanna thanked them both and got out of the car and headed inside.

The couple watched to make sure she got in okay. “Do you trust her?” Shaw asked as she watched.

“Yes,” Root said and that was good enough for her wife to pull away from the curb.

“I want eyes on her, Root,” Shaw said, but it wasn’t angry.

“Okay,” Root agreed and sent instructions to the Machine.

* * *

Root was almost less concerned about finding a solution to the Bishop problem, than she was about her wife’s confession at dinner.

“So, how long _exactly_ did you go without sex?” Root asked, her hand playing with Sameen’s ponytail as she drove them home.

“What?” Shaw asked, because she didn’t always listen to what she blurted out.

“You told Hanna that you could understand because you had gone long periods without… sex,” Root reminded her. “I was wondering… _when_ exactly this was? Or more to the point; when were you having _so_ much sex that this time was considered a drought?”

Shaw took her eyes off the road for a long minute as she stared at Root. Her mind raced to figure out what the hell she even meant when sharing this information.

“Shaw, the road?” Root said, putting her hand on the wheel when a car came close.

“Geez, Root!” Shaw complained for distracting her and immediately pulled over so she didn’t get them killed. “I don’t know,” she tried. “It never meant anything to me, you know, other than a physical release. It never meant anything, so if I didn’t have it, I didn’t care,” Shaw said truthfully.

Just the thought of Shaw talking about her life before Root was enough to bother her.

“You’re not the only one who can get jealous, you know,” Root said sternly.

“Jealous? There’s nothing…,” Shaw was saying when Root slammed her lips onto hers and pushed her head back against the headrest.

That kiss, and the effect it had on Shaw, was enough to pull Root back from her short dip into envy. “You don’t ever have to worry about going without,” she assured her.

“I know, Root,” Shaw said. “It’s always been different with you. I want you, always.”

Root smiled and the couple drove home. Root instructed the Machine to watch Hanna and it was in place before they arrived back at their apartment.

“Tell her I’m not done talking to her,” Shaw instructed Root as if the Machine could not hear her.

* * *

It took Janine a little while to come down from her adrenaline rush, but once she did, she and Zoe sat on the couch in front of a fire and talked.

“You were right, you know,” Zoe said, touching Janine’s hand. “I didn’t give you a chance. And I’m sorry.”

Janine liked that Zoe reflected on things and could come back to an issue with a new perspective.

“I’m not going to make you regret it, either,” Janine promised. She knew what was going on and what her fascination with Shaw was about.

“I don’t think I could ever regret anything with you,” Zoe said, leaning in to kiss her lover.

“How about if I make us breakfast?” Janine asked.

“It’s only ten o’clock at night,” Zoe laughed.

“ _Yes_ , I know,” Janine smiled and moved in closer.


	70. It Takes a Village

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to Toria_is_alright for allowing me to steal her idea for this chapter's title. It's perfect!  
> And to all of you who continue to post after the chapters - thank you so much for your insights, feedback and interpretations. I swear, sometimes I think the reviews are better written than the chapter itself. So - thank you for the time and energy they take,

Sameen forgot about arguing with the Machine when they arrived home after dropping Hanna off at the shelter. It was a rare occurrence to have the entire apartment to themselves, and she wanted to make good use of that time alone. Just the _thought_ that something bad could come back on Root was enough to drive Shaw to prove - _unnecessarily_ \- that she was strong enough to protect her from anything.

They were no sooner in the doorway when Shaw pulled Root into her and lifted her up, so she could put her legs around Sameen. “Oh!” Root practically squealed, often wondering how the shorter woman managed these feats of strength.

Shaw embraced her wife tightly, walking into the living room that was encased in the dotted lights of the City skyline through the windows.

“I know she’s your friend,” Shaw said when Root buried her head in Shaw’s neck; “… but none of this is going to touch you.”

Root understood what the rest of that sentiment was without Shaw saying it. Hanna wasn’t safe from her wrath should any of this come near Root.

“I was there, Shaw; I helped her,” Root reminded her.

“Then, you better tell your AI friend to do her best, or I will be visiting Bishop, Texas,” Shaw said, looking into Root’s eyes now.

Root wasn’t worried just yet. She knew that evidence could be lost; records could be altered. She didn’t know how much time they had, but right now, the only thing she wanted was Shaw.

“Make me forget this,” Root said because old memories have a way of showing up uninvited, especially in darkness.

_What startled Root about that night so many years ago was that she felt nothing about participating in the cover up. It surprised her how easily, at that tender young age, she could be both judge and jury by assuring Hanna, the man got what he deserved. That coldness would always haunt her._

* * *

Making Root forget things was Shaw’s specialty and she set out to demonstrate just how good she was at it. The more distraction Root needed, the more physical Sameen became.

First, she set Root down on the arm of the couch and pushed her back so she fell onto the cushions. The movements to remove clothing that followed were definite and deliberate in their tugging. Midway, Shaw pulled Root back up and brought her over to the dining room table. For a brief moment, Root got so excited that she tried to turn Sameen by her shoulders in an attempt to subdue her. But Shaw’s rippled muscled body held in place.

“Cute,” Shaw smiled devilishly at her wife’s attempt. “You know you’re no match…,” Shaw teased as she took charge and pressed her hands down on Root – leaving a trail of exciting touches. Dishes smashed as Root’s body took up space on the table and Shaw cleared off anything in her way.

Root couldn’t get enough of grasping for Sameen’s arms and feeling their rock hard strength. It was easy to believe that nothing could get to her when her body was being manipulated by such raw power. Root loved her feeble attempts to pull at Shaw that had no effect. It excited her to know, this commanding woman belonged to her.

Then, at just the right moment, the pressure lightened into soft and rhythmic penetrations that made Root’s hands thrust to grab her head as she surrendered her entire being to Shaw. Sameen smiled down at her wife, turned on by how well she could please Root.

The couple chose the comforts of their bedroom afterwards to curl up in each other’s bodies and sleep. Sameen’s pronounced presence was the thing that made Root feel the safest.

* * *

While Sameen’s attention was very much focused on Root, she would have been happy to learn she was not anywhere near Janine and Zoe.

Janine was extremely appreciative that Zoe wanted their coupling to work. And she was determined not to dampen that. Never having a friend like Sameen meant there was a long honeymoon phase; where she was excited and enamored with the woman. Understandably, Shaw was like no one Janine had ever met in her life. But that night when Zoe extended her trust, Janine relaxed her grip on her friendship with Shaw and a new balance seemed to appear.

Straddling Zoe’s lap on the couch, Janine reached down and cupped her lover’s sharp jawline. “God, you are so beautiful,” she whispered to Zoe. She pressed down, kissing her lips and explored her mouth with her tongue. Zoe pulled her in and pressed her head to Janine’s chest, holding onto her tightly. This was like nothing Zoe ever experienced before with someone. It both thrilled and frightened her in the same moment.

Without saying another word, the couple stood up and walked up the long staircase to the bedroom.

* * *

Zoe was about to be very happy she gave them another chance. There wasn’t a part of her body Janine didn’t touch in such a tender way, and her body shuddered uncontrollably when the release finally came.

Holding Janine in her arms now, Zoe waited until her breath evened again. “You remind me of Supergirl,” she laughed as they lay back exhausted on cool, satin sheets.

“How is that?” Janine laughed.

“You have this conservative, traditional outward appearance, but you rip open that shirt, and there’s a big “S” emblazoned there,” Zoe said, still gasping for air.

“For… Supergirl?” Janine asked.

“For Sexy as hell,” Zoe explained.

“I like it,” Janine said. She turned to lean on her elbow and face her lover. “And you are my kryptonite.”

“How so?” Zoe wondered out loud.

“You’re the reason I became stronger,” Janine said, playing with Zoe’s hair; “… and yet, you’re still my weakness.”

Zoe had never heard anything so beautiful in her life. She reached up and pulled Janine into her, kissing the lips that spoke those incredible words. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” Janine smiled.

“For giving _me_ a second chance,” Zoe said, feeling incredibly foolish for ever thinking of letting this woman go.

“We all deserve them,” Janine smiled back.

* * *

The next morning, the Machine reported that Hanna was safe and sound in her abode. Then, she gave Root the news about the discovery in Bishop. Root didn’t want to worry Shaw before she had eaten, but as soon as she entered the kitchen, Sameen could tell something was up.

“Seems they’re pretty quick in Bishop,” Root said when Sameen pressed her to update her.

“Can she do _anything_?” Shaw inquired, but still pushing a pancake in her mouth. It almost sounded like she already knew the answer.

“Well, while there police work is up to date, their system is not. Huge backlog of entries, which means… she may not be able to access anything,” Root said concerned.

“Then, I guess it’s going to take a human presence,” Shaw smiled because she liked the idea of trumping the AI.

“You can’t go and you won’t let me go,” Root said, even though she knew she could talk Shaw into it.

“Then, I guess we’ll have to send someone else,” Shaw replied, her plan already set in her head.

Just then, Azar entered the apartment with Michael. There was a round of high pitched greetings as the couple welcomed the baby back.

“Does she look the same to you?” Shaw worried as she lifted the baby’s arms and legs. “She smells different. What did you do to her?”

The doting grandmother simply stared back at her daughter. “Have I thanked you lately for marrying her?” she asked Root as dark eyes smiled at her.

“Did you have fun at Grandma’s?” Root asked, hoping Michael would respond with something that her worried mother would interpret as positive. A big smile and a gurgle were proof enough that, indeed, she did.

“You didn’t feed her anything _weird_ , did you?” Sameen asked suspiciously. Root cast a slight frown at her wife’s interrogation. “What? She raised a… _vegan_ , you know,” she answered.

“I assure you, I had nothing to do with your sister’s choice of diet,” Azar explained.

“Speaking of people who are strange, where is my sister?” Shaw asked.

“She’s in love, Sameen; she does not spend every moment with her mother,” Azar laughed.

“I’m in love and I see you all the time,” Shaw immediately set out to prove someone wrong, but had just openly declared she was in love.

“Oohh,” Isabelle said, clutching her chest at the romantic expression.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said, when Root’s smiling eyes and her mother’s wide grin fell on her,” … she knows I love her,” she tried, but Root was already pulling her in to kiss her.

“Woot!” Sameen tried, but her lips were still locked in Root’s. “Weally, Woot?” Sameen tried because she knew they were being ogled at by the older women.

“That is _so_ sweet,” Isabelle said and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Sameen was blushing. “Are… you… blushing?” she asked, leaning into Shaw when Root released her.

But Shaw was caught up in that kiss. She shook her head no, but her lips said – ‘Maybe’ – as her eyes were locked with Root’s.

Now, the chef and the grandmother just looked at one another and giggled. But of all of them, Michael was the happiest.

* * *

Without so much as a hesitation, Root told Azar what was going on with Hanna. Thankfully, she waited until Isabelle took Michael upstairs to change her.

“Are you going there?” Azar asked her daughters.

“She won’t let me,” both of them answered at the same time – and Azar bit her lip to prevent the smile from getting too wide on her own face.

“I do admire an equitable relationship,” Azar said and her daughter scowled.

“Actually, your daughter had the upper hand last night,” Root murmured into the tea cup she raised to her mouth. Azar simply smiled, but Shaw nearly choked.

“Could you two get back to how your brain child can’t do anything to help us,” Shaw barked as she walked into the entryway to get ready, leaving her wife and mother to smile at each other.

* * *

True to her word, Janine was busy making breakfast when Zoe woke up the next morning. Pleasantly surprised that she could still move after having every muscle in her body stretched and exhausted, Zoe joined her in the kitchen.

“Here you go,” Janine said, offering Zoe a fresh cup of coffee. “I hope you don’t mind?” she asked, showing off the short rob that she borrowed. “I didn’t want to cook naked.”

Zoe choked on the sip she had just taken. “No, no; we wouldn’t want…,” but she couldn’t finish because she was still visualizing what that would be like. “No,” she said because she wouldn’t want her lover to get splattered.

Zoe drank down the liquid energy as she watched Janine flit back and forth, preparing them eggs, toast, orange juice and fresh fruit.

“I was surprised to find all of this in your refrigerator,” Janine said because she expected it to be bare instead of stocked.

“Someone does it for me,” Zoe said of her housekeeper. She was noticing for the first time, how differently she felt in her huge townhouse when Janine was there. It had always been functional; a place to have just to herself and shut out the world. Now, it somehow seemed – warmer, more welcoming; as if someone had turned on all the lights. “Do… you… like it here?” Zoe blurted out.

“Your house?” Janine asked as she placed the finished meal on plates and sat down next to Zoe. “It’s very nice,” she said.

Zoe smiled, but her mind was racing. This was all new territory for the experienced woman. She never wanted any of her lovers to know where she lived; let alone spend time with her there.

“Come for dinner tonight,” Zoe said and put her hand on Janine’s arm.

“What should we bring in?” Janine wondered out loud.

“I’ll cook,” Zoe said, because there was a time when she was decent at it.

“Really?” Janine asked. “I’ll bring…,” and she was about to say wine when they both looked at Zoe’s very large and very well stocked wine refrigerator. “… dessert,” she laughed.

Zoe was so outside of her usual reserved self and so taken with this woman in her presence that she lost all inhibitions. “Let’s make it something chocolate covered,” she suggested and Janine stopped mid-chew. She simply didn’t think Zoe’s expression could mean she was that excited over chocolate covered fruit.

* * *

Arriving early for work that day, Fusco sat across from his partner, who always seemed to arrive first.

“I’m worried about you,” he said to Joss as she busied herself with finishing reports.

Never one to bite at Fusco’s baited lines, Joss just raised her head and smiled.

“Don’t you want to know _why_?” Fusco huffed.

Joss shook her head no, but she knew the man would whine and pout until she played. Letting out a long sigh, she stopped doing work and folded her hands.

“Tell me why,” she said, but there was nothing in her tone that said she wanted to know.

That didn’t matter.

As soon as she asked, Fusco was pulling his glasses down and telling her. “You’re here so early almost – _ev-er-y_ day – which tells me you are up and out early in the morning. Don’t you and Mr. Sunshine ever sleep in?”

Being Fusco’s partner sometimes reminded Joss of her college sorority days; no work and lots of gossip.

“Now Lionel, I appreciate your concern, but you should know something about me and John,” Carter whispered across the desks. Lionel pulled his glasses off completely and leaned forward to make certain he heard every word. “We too busy getting it on to sleep,” Carter delivered her response.

Then, she put her head down and went back to work, knowing it would be a matter of minutes before her partner would finally burst out; “Oh, wait! You’re kidding me right? You’re just saying? Are you… hey, I’m just trying to help,” Fusco said, tangled in his own thoughts.

“I do appreciate that, Fusco,” Joss smiled back at her partner.

Just then, their captain approached the desk.

“Why in God’s name would you ask to go to Bishop, Texas, Fusco!” she asked in a loud voice that made heads turn.

He didn’t have time to update Carter about his excursion later that morning. Now, two sets of eyes were staring at him for an explanation. But he had already faced one of the most inquisitive women he knew – earlier that morning, after the request was issued. Did we say request?

“Remember that cold case?” Fusco said and of course those two no-nonsense women looked at him further.

“Oh, _that_ one,” Joss said, gently pointing out how ridiculous that question was.

“The one..,” Fusco said, his tone clearing indicating they hadn’t given him enough time, when clearly they had, “… where the mob guy was whacking people who was stealing from him? It was a long time ago. I was just on the job when I helped this detective work the case. He was so grateful for my canny ability to peruse a crime scene, that he sent me a forty year old bottle of scotch. Those was in the days when I drank,” Fusco blathered on.

“What does this have to do with Texas?” his captain said, crossing her arms.

“They found a body down there; similar MO,” he said. “Our guy is up for parole; might be able to keep that scum back in jail a few more years if we can tie this to him.”

His superior office thought it over as she stood there. “Fine,” she finally said and Fusco let out his first breath, “… but you be back here fast.”

“Tomorrow,” he said because he knew how long it would take to do what he needed to do.

“That’s a little over confident, isn’t it, Detective Fusco?” the captain asked.

“Yeah,” he said, realizing he let that slip out.

The woman in charge slapped the paperwork on his desk, bent over and signed it begrudgingly. She liked the idea of tacking on more time to someone who would be a menace out on the streets. She didn’t like that she felt she wasn’t getting the whole story. When she turned and went back to her office, Carter looked over at her partner.

“Do I want to know what this is about?” she asked, her head swaying a little.

“No, and right about now, you should be getting a call,” Fusco said, throwing his buddy under the proverbial bus to take some of the heat off himself. He knew Shaw contacted him first in the pecking order of people to make do her work.

Right on cue, Joss’ phone beeped and a sly smile appeared on her partner’s face. She picked it up slowly and said; “Hello, John.”

“Gotta go,” Fusco said and waved goodbye.

“Why would _you_ have to go to Texas?” he heard her asking her boyfriend.


	71. Keeping Promises

One _might_ think that it was Fusco who got the short end of the friendship stick that day, but it wasn’t. Fusco was easy going; but he wasn’t a fool. As soon as Shaw told him her plan to send someone to Texas, he knew he was her top candidate. But that didn’t mean he was doing it for free.

“So, you want _me_ to go down there and tell them we had a string of murders up here that involved a _frying_ pan?” he asked, hoping she’d hear how ridiculous that sounded.

“I want you to make up whatever connection you want, okay?” she said, proving every detail had not been thought through. “I want you to pin this on someone who’s already in the can; someone that it won’t make much difference to; a high counter,” she said, using code that meant someone already serving time for countless murders.

_Lionel was a smart detective and it wasn’t long before he simply worked the crime backwards. He got the name of the drug dealer who thought Hanna’s father stole from him. He searched the database to connect some dots between that guy and some New York drug dealers. Now, if he could convince the police down there of that connection, they might appreciate closing the cold case._

“This is going to cost you, Shaw,” Fusco said, because he always said that.

“Well, it would look funny for a cop flying first class and staying at the Hilton,” she pointed out. “But I did get you a pet.”

“You’re not sending that neurotic dog, are you?” he bellowed.

“I thought you liked Reese,” Shaw quipped and he threatened to tell him about her joke.

“Here’s the deal. You are going to back up my story,” Fusco laid out his counter offer. “I’ll explain where I’m going and be subjected to about six million questions, so you better have my back when a certain someone arrives at work.”

“You want me to tell your girlfriend I’m sending you on a mission?” Shaw asked.

“Yes,” Fusco affirmed.

“O-kay,” Shaw said, thinking that would be a two second conversation. Something like; _“I needed him; he went.”_

“And…,” he yelled before she could hang up, “… I want a good dinner when I get back. It might look suspicious for a cop to dine fancy while he’s on duty, but it won’t look funny at all when I’m back.”

“Geez, Fusco; if I wanted someone who was going to whine their list of demands, I would have sent my sister,” Shaw barked.

“You sister does not have an NYPD Detective gold shield,” he reminded her and had a point.

But she wasn’t giving in smoothly.

“ _Speaking_ of things you can buy cheaply on EBay; can you get Reese one of those things? You know, to make it look like you two actually belong together?” Shaw asked.

“Me and Captain America? Sure thing; anything else you need me to do while I’m working my full time job, Maybelline?” he asked.

“Yeah, now that you mention it; I want you to get me something,” Shaw whispered to her friend.

“You want me to get what? Where do you suppose I put that?” Fusco protested.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to,” Shaw barked back. “It’s for Root.”

“For Root? Oh, why didn’t you say so? Sure. And for you, I’m going to get some of that southern hospitality,” he said before she could disconnect him.

“Just…,” Shaw said, before handing up.

Lionel did ‘borrow’ a shield, and he and Reese, or should we say, Detective Stills, were on their way. The airplane seats were too narrow for Lionel, lacking in leg room for Reese, but they worked on their plan on the way down.

* * *

If there was one thing that could dampen Sameen’s spirits, it was someone being… chipper.

“Isn’t it a _beautiful_ morning?” Janine asked, twirling in her seat when Shaw arrived.

_If Shaw were a cartoon character, they would have drawn her with a scowl and grawlixes (!%# &*) over her head as she grumbled her displeasure. She didn’t even bother to put on one of her fake smiles as she went into her office to take care of things._

Her assistant, however, was not to be deterred.

“The air smells cleaner, the sun is brighter. I wouldn’t have believed it, but it’s true!” said the woman unfamiliar with how love can do that to you.

Shaw stared up from her from under the heavy frown, wishing she could somehow lift the woman with her gaze and deposit her somewhere else. “Everything work out okay last night? And, by the way, that’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes! Shaw, you gave me the best advice!” Janine gushed.

“Good, glad it’s okay. Now…,” Shaw tried.

“Oh, just so you know,” Janine began reviewing the agenda for the day, “… John said he had to cancel the yoga class, but…, “she said and looked down to get the exact quote, “… don’t worry, he’ll save you a space in the front row in the next one.” Then, the messenger, who was proud to deliver the message exactly as he had dictated it, put the paper down in her lap.

Shaw’s hand slowly moved to the container on her desk that held pens and a letter opener. She wrapped her hand around the long, pointed tool and started to pull it out slowly, in a very threatening manner.

“Stop!” Janine chastised her, because she wasn’t in the mood for any of Shaw’s threats. “Put it down,” she said, sternly. She was really doing it for Shaw’s own good.

“Fine!” Shaw said, dropping it back in the cup, “… but only because I’m afraid that twinkle in your eye is going to burn me if I don’t look away. What is up with you? Disney running a movie marathon or something?”

“Very funny,” Janine said and put some papers on her boss’ desk for her to look at.

Shaw had no way of knowing it yet, but the tides of their connection were changing. She didn’t feel it, but the pedestal she had been placed on was slowly being lowered.

In spite of a wonderful evening and a pleasant morning, the tension of her plan being enacted by someone other than herself, made Sameen tense. She scrunched up her shoulders when she felt them tighten up and rubbed her neck.

“What has you so tense?” Janine asked, not missing a thing as usual.

“Nothing,” Shaw said and added, “Chipperness does this to be.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Janine said, standing up and going behind her boss’ chair.

“Where are you…? What are you…?” Shaw was asking, but her assistant was putting her hands on her shoulders and massaging them. “No, don’t … it’s okay,” Shaw protested, and put her hands back to remove Janine’s, but they were swatted away.

“Stop,” her assistant said for the second time in a short period.

“I’m good,” Shaw said and tried to squirm away from the grip, but her muscles were starting to respond to the deep tissue therapy and slowed her escape down. “I don’t… like… to be… touched,” Shaw barked, but it was more of a Chihuahua bark, than her usual Rottweiler growl. There was nothing about this that Shaw liked; and she was going to tear this woman away from her … any second. “Really, you... can… okay, let go,” Shaw said, but with each word, her voice got weaker.

“There,” Janine announced and stopped her ministrations. “That should help,” she suggested, and exited the room, humming a song that would get on Shaw’s nerves any minute.

Shaw swung her hand up and felt her shoulder, as if trying to push something away. She flexed her muscles, and hated to admit it, but they were less tense.

This wasn’t good. She wasn’t sure why, but it wasn’t.

“I have to go… somewhere,” Shaw said as she practically slid along the wall to get out of Janine’s office.

Janine sized up her boss’ reaction immediately and knew where she was going. Perhaps in her exuberance, she had overstepped a line. She turned herself in immediately.

* * *

Shaw took the stairs, two at a time, to Root’s office. She ran in like someone was chasing her and slammed the door.

“Sweetie?” Root asked concerned.

“Don’t we have a no-touching rule here?” Shaw asked.

“I hope not,” Root smiled her entire face lighting up at the thought.

“Not you, other people,” Shaw said.

“Yes, I don’t want anyone else touching you,” Root agreed.

“Well, she did!” Shaw said, her back still twisting as if trying to undo it.

Root came around her desk and sat on the couch where Sameen had flopped down. “Who?” she asked and pulled Shaw’s head into her lap.

“Janine! She started to … touch … my shoulders,” Shaw said and shuddered.

“Oh,” Root said, having already heard the confession. “She told me.”

“What?” Shaw said and tried to get up, but Root gently pushed her back down.

“She called and said she didn’t mean to upset you,” Root explained.

“Well, she did. No… touching! Why is that so hard to get? That’s a lawsuit, Root,” Shaw suggested.

“You want to sue her?” Root asked.

“No! I’m her boss; she could sue me for … not promoting her, or giving her a raise, or anything,” Shaw bellowed.

“Okay, yes, under any circumstances, this is not to be encouraged or tolerated,” Root agreed.

“You mean…,’ Shaw looked up in horror, “… you have to fire her?”

“No,” Root assured her wife, “… I think she meant it as a gesture from a friend, not a subordinate. She told me everything and I reminded her it’s not a good idea, which she totally agreed.”

“Did you tell her about the no touching part? How I hate to be touched?” Shaw asked.

“I did point that out,” Root said, soothing the ruffled feathers.

“Like in… no… touching,” Shaw said, closing her eyes because she was feeling very relaxed.

“None,” Root said, bending over and kissing the protruding lip. She latched onto it and kissed her wife.

“Make… sure… you tell her, Root,” Shaw asked as she drifted off momentarily.

Root smiled to think the sudden emotional reaction could exhaust her wife.

“Of course,’ she said, as she stroked Sameen’s hair.

Within minutes, a steady snore arose from Sameen as she slept in her safe place.

Root stayed there until minutes later, Sameen’s internal clock reminded her she was behind on paying back Fusco. She woke up, to the beautiful sight of Root smiling down on her. She felt renewed and ready to face the insanity that lie on the other side of Root’s door.

* * *

Rushing downstairs now, she looked at her watch. Fusco and Reese would be landing soon. She was headed to take care of her part of the deal when she ran right into Zoe Morgan.

“Oh, you okay, there, Shaw?” Zoe said, steading the woman by holding her arms.

“What is it with you two?” Shaw said, pulling away.

“Are you sure you want to ask that?” Zoe teased, having stopped in to see her girlfriend.

“We have to get stricter security clearance,” Shaw moaned.

“I’m leaving, don’t worry. And Janine told me – you know, that she touched you,” Zoe shared.

Now, it was Shaw who put her hands on Zoe’s arms and pulled her to an empty hallway. “Do you mind not announcing that?”

“I think you misinterpreted it, Shaw,” Zoe updated her friend.

“I didn’t interpret it anyway except incredibly annoying,” Shaw barked.

“We had a milestone last night,” Zoe shared, even though Sameen closed her eyes and started to murmur small no’s.

“I do not want to hear…,” Shaw was saying through gritted teeth.

“I almost broke up with her,” is what Zoe said next and suddenly, Shaw was glaring at her. “This is what I’m trying to tell you,” Zoe explained.

“Did you hurt…,” Shaw said, switching to protective mode even though the woman seemed happy.

“I told her I was having trouble with …,” Zoe started to say and didn’t want to push Shaw over the edge, “… how things were.”

“Is there a short version of this story; you know, one that does not make me want to throw up?” Shaw barked.

“I made a mistake,” Zoe said, hoping that admission would interest Shaw. “And Janine came storming to my apartment and put me in my place. I’m guessing you might have advised her on that, and I wanted to thank you.”

Zoe was so sincere, that it gave Sameen pause. “Oh, good, I’m glad.” And Shaw went to walk away, certain they were done, but the Fixer pulled her back a second.

“Something changed last night,” Zoe was explaining when Shaw threw her head back in anguish.

“I must have killed puppies in another lifetime,” she moaned, deciding this was her punishment.

“I just wanted you to know that I think Janine is thinking more of you as friends today. Not that you’re not her boss, Shaw, but, she’s not living in your shadow as much.”

“Okay, that’s great,” Shaw smiled her fake smile.

“She was being your friend when she tried to help you relax,” Zoe continued even though Shaw’s face clearly indicated she should stop talking.

“Okay, but Root says we have a policy against that, so … no more,” Shaw informed Zoe.

“Yes, I saw the sign,” Zoe laughed.

And then, as if Shaw’s morning wasn’t annoying enough, Zoe tipped the scales by reaching out when Shaw least expected it and hugged her. “Thanks, Shaw, for everything.”

She left the irate Persian standing there, with her eyes closed, as she walked away.

“I carry a gun, I don’t know why I don’t use it,” Shaw mumbled to herself when her phone beeped.

It was Fusco saying they landed and were on their way to the local police station in Bishop.

“Don’t forget the library,” Shaw texted him back.

“Are you sure it’s there?” Fusco asked.

“Yes!” Sameen answered. “She’s got to at least get _one_ thing right!”

“Where the hell am I going to put a computer?” Fusco asked a very perplexed Reese.


	72. From the Fire, into the Frying Pan

Fusco explained to his _temporary_ partner that not every other police department welcomed the New York brothers and sisters in blue. “We got a reputation,” Fusco said, shoveling in a breakfast burrito before they got their rental car. A small drop of sauce fell onto Lionel’s tie as John watched. “Oh, man!” he exclaimed, wiping the drip and making the stain bigger.

“I wonder why that is,” Reese smiled.

“It’s a bum rap,” Lionel complained. “Okay, so we’ll go over our story one more time in the car. Then, if all goes well, we’ll head to the library for the…,” and he looked around to make sure no one could hear him, “… the _package_.”

“You know getting the old computer is not the most challenging part of this job, right, Lionel?” John asked.

“Maybe not for the fake detective, it ain’t,” Fusco retorted.

Lionel was right, in that there was some trepidation about the detectives from New York coming to Bishop to review their case. But the lead detective was a smart woman who welcomed them, anyway.

“Detective Fusco?” the tall, thin woman asked when he walked in.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Fusco asked, as if his entire demeanor didn’t announce him. “No boots, right?” he asked, assuming erroneously that everyone in Texas wore them.

“Detective Stills,” Reese introduced himself and shook her hand. He decided he was going to save Fusco from himself whether he needed it or not.

“Detective Mathers,” the woman said back, caught off guard at the baby blues she was staring up into. “My office is this way,” she said, clearing her throat and smiling.

If there were glaring differences between the visitors and the locals, they were small compared to the similarities. Over the next hour, Fusco impressed his host with the way the city detectives managed a case, and the country cops captivated their guests with their own tactics.

“I admit,” Detective Mathers said, “… our inventory is backlogged, but that’s because Cindy just had a baby,” she said and produced the picture as proof.

“I like babies,” Fusco announced and took the picture to look closer. “So, we think this body you got might be connected to our guy in New York,” Fusco said and then proceeded to lay out the dots that would connect the thousands of miles between the two cities. She was listening, but so far, she wasn’t buying it.

“See, our guy had these dealers up and down this line here,” Fusco said, showing a map from New York to Texas.

“Yeah, but the coroner determined this guy died from a blow to the head,” the astute detective said. “That doesn’t exactly scream drug mob hit. More like it happened in the home.”

John’s eyebrows rose because the detective had a point. Even amateur drug hits don’t include cookware. But his partner was prepared.

“You would think, right?” Fusco agreed, sort of. “But you see this here,” he said, pulling a paper out of his file; a file that had been faxed to his desk at the precinct. He shoved a copy of a receipt across the desk. “Is that the kind of pan this guy was hit with? It was on the guy connected to our guy when we did a bust.”

Fusco stole a knowing look at Reese, which fortunately, his counterpart didn’t notice. She looked at the receipt, and then opened the case file. “I’ll have to show this to the coroner to confirm, but this might be the same kind of frying pan they suspect was used,” she said. John smiled at her and again, momentarily distracted her.

Fusco was wondering if that was the reason Shaw insisted he go with him. It was like he was the muscle and the brains; and Reese was the good looks.

“Yeah, well here’s something no one knows that might help us,” Fusco said, getting the detective to look back at him. “The way the guys operated up north anyway, was to throw evidence from the family in the hole with them. You know, throw dispersion back on the family.”

John actually thought that was a good way to flush out if they found any such proof.

“We found fibers on the corpse, but that could have been transported at home,” the local detective said. Then, she read further down the paper. “There was an old book bag found near there, too.”

“See?” Fusco said.

“Do you think it could be connected to our guy?” Reese asked, because he was afraid Fusco would build up such a good case, it would make it look suspicious.

The woman looked over her file and at the receipt. “It does look like it could be,” she conceded, but then added,” … but I’ll have to speak to the coroner first.”

“Sure, sure,” Fusco said. “We can just go…”

“Won’t don’t we meet for dinner tonight?” Detective Mathers suggested, looking right at Reese.

“Oh, well, dinner…,” Fusco hesitated, but John knew what was going on.

“We’d love to,” John lied because he understood they were guests in her city and had to go along.

“We would?” Fusco said, because he couldn’t imagine how John was going to explain this to Carter.

“Very much,” John smiled and now Fusco knew he was up to something because you could actually see his teeth.

“Here’s the name of a really good BBQ place,” the woman said, writing down the name. “Right here in town. Eight o’clock?”

“We’ll be there,” John smiled back.

The two men got up, thanked her, and walked outside into the brutal afternoon sun. “How the hell do they work in this heat?” Lionel remarked, grabbing at his jacket and tie to remove them.

“Cool thoughts,” said the man that was void of perspiration.

“Yeah, well, this dinner better not come out of what Shaw owes me,” Lionel huffed. “I’m charging her for the dry cleaning of my tie, too.”

* * *

The last thing on Shaw’s mind at the moment was what this trip would cost her. She was already figuring out when to talk to Fusco’s girlfriend. She wanted it to be short and sweet; in and out; because the woman had a way of drawing Sameen in and not letting her leave.

 _Fusco had been right when he told Shaw he would be gently interrogated when he announced he was headed to Texas. Iris did ask questions, curious as to what would make him switch gears so quickly. She was quietly wondering if Fusco and Shaw should be included in a colleague’s study on friendship._  
_“She’s a real pain in my ass,” he said as he packed a small overnight bag. “No, she really is,” he asserted when Iris tilted her head in doubt._  
_Iris Campbell did not need anyone to back up her boyfriend’s explanation; she already knew why he was going. He would do anything for his friend and she knew it. More importantly, she accepted it._

Still, when Sameen showed up in her office, she wondered if Lionel hadn’t made it part of their deal.

“How are you?” Iris asked, when Shaw entered after knocking. That momentary pause was often a sign that Sameen really didn’t want to be there.

“Don’t ask,” Shaw said to the woman known for her line of questioning. “The only bedroom I want to be in is my own, I’ll tell you that. And I don’t want to be touched, either, while we’re at it,” Shaw listed because these were utmost in her mind. “Root says we have a policy anyway, so I’m not worried.”

“About only being in your own bedroom?” Iris asked, trying to figure out where they were going with this. “Or about being touched?”

It always surprised Shaw when she heard her thoughts come back through the therapist. They never sounded as sane as when she first said them. But it made her worry for a second. If she could be in Janine’s bed, was it possible that she was in anyone else’s bed? That thought crossed her mind, and panic appeared on her face. As if the question were written in her expression, she turned and looked at Iris, her eyes pleading.

This was one time; the therapist wasn’t going to inquire how Sameen felt about it. “No,” she smiled because she needed to establish that boundary.

“Oh, thank God!” Shaw said. “Trust me, you don’t want to be in bed with…,” she said, and then stared because she was talking about the very place the woman often was. Shaw’s mouth opened, almost as wide as Iris’ eyes did as she waited for her to finish that sentence. “So, look, I just came by to explain something.”

Iris had this image of a pyramid of things Sameen was uttering that needed explaining.

“Okay,” Iris said, sitting back in her seat.

“I needed Fusco,” Shaw admitted and, for a second, really hoped that was all that needed to be said.

“ _Detective_ Fusco?” Iris asked, because she was gently reminding Sameen they should talk about him as her friend, not as Iris’ lover. Sameen must have missed that memo.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, looking quizzically back. “Do you call him by his official title? Because that might explain the huge ego issue…,” and then, she finally looked at Iris’s face.

“I was suggesting… that any conversation about… _Detective_ Fusco…,” Iris said slowly. Sameen stared at her mouth as she squinted, as if wishing the woman to speed up with the full thought.

“Oh,” Shaw said, getting it. “Right,” she added, putting it all together. She drew a deep breath, as she reconsidered how to rephrase this. “I… have… this… friend,” Shaw started and Iris had to smile at her well intentioned attempt. That expression to Shaw she was on the right track. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a full pain in the ass,” Shaw slipped in, “… but he’s the guy you call when you need something done right.”

“Sounds like you have a very reliable friend there,” Iris said back.

“He is; he’s the best,” Shaw blurted out. “Oh, geez; don’t tell him that, please.”

“Anything you say here is completely confidential,” Iris reminded her patient.

“Then, why am I here telling you something to make it easier on someone you can’t even tell what I said?” Shaw asked.

“I think we can manage it,” Iris assured the confused messenger.

Shaw often found her sessions with Iris exhausting, but this one took the cake. She left too confused to be tired.

She returned to her office to finish up for the day.

* * *

Shaw had all of five minutes of peace, before Janine was back in her office.

“What do you think of when I say – _chocolate covered_?” Janine asked, sitting down because she wasn’t leaving until she got an answer.

“What you do to take the prints off the gun you used to kill the person who disturbed your peace,” Shaw said, without looking up.

“That wouldn’t take prints off – anyway, give me a real answer. Do you think chocolate covered… fruit?” she pressed.

Janine knew if she had a question about food; you go to someone who takes it very seriously.

“Why in God’s name would you ruin chocolate with fruit?” Shaw asked seriously.

Janine would come back to that. “Do you think this is too much?” she asked, reaching down into a bag and pulling out a t-shirt with a large ‘S’ in the middle.

Shaw stared at the sexy version of the superhero apparel and then at the woman holding it. “Only on days other than ‘ _wear a costume to work’_ days,” Shaw quipped.

“Silly,” Janine said and thanked her boss. She’d have to give more thought to the chocolate covered request.

“Great!” Shaw said, alone in her office. “ _Now_ , I want chocolate!”


	73. Three Degrees of Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Inspired by Sarah Shahi's dress that she wore to Reverie Press Day (on Twitter)

Shaw sat back in her chair and gave thought to her chocolate induced craving. A sly smile came across her face; there was only one thing she liked better than chocolate. Even better than steak.

In the sea of insanity that was her office, there was one stable port in the storm. “Let’s go to dinner,” she said to Root as she rushed out of work.

“With Michael?” Root asked because they had to think in threes now.

“Yes, I’d love to have my two best girls with me,” Shaw said, rushing into a nearby store. “And it’s a fancy place, so ask her not to spit up so much.”

Root practically squealed the update to the baby. “And mommy says it’s fancy which means we have to go home and change!” she said, taking the baby and doing just that.

Cancelling dinner never upset Isabelle because she knew it really only meant a change in time. Instead of Shaw eating at six; she’d eat at ten.

* * *

Sameen went into a nearby designer apparel store and told them exactly what she was looking for when the sales person asked. “Something incredibly tight,” Shaw explained. One look at that well-toned body and no explanations were needed. She preferred something with buttons because the sound of them being propelled to the floor was exciting, but she’d have to settle.

“THAT ONE!” Sameen said, when she saw the Givenchy fitted mini dress. “That’s the one.”

“Would you like me to wrap it…?” the young man was asking when Shaw started to take her shoes off.

“No, I’m going to wear it,” she explained and the attendant suddenly realized the customer meant - right then and there.

“Maybe you’d like to change in here?” he said, gently taking Sameen by the shoulders and walking her to the dressing room. “Do you need… shoes?” he asked, looking down at the boots in horror.

“Yeah, stilettos if you have them,” Shaw said.

A few minutes later, Sameen emerged from the dressing room looking like a model set for the runway. The tight fitting dress hugged every single toned muscle of her body and the high heeled shoes seemed to elongate her legs.

“You have excellent taste in clothes,” the salesperson smiled as he wrapped Sameen’s work clothes up in a shopping bag.

“You should see my taste in women,” Shaw said, giving him a long, deliberate wink.

Sameen had decided to stage her entrance, all for Root’s benefit. Asking for a table in the rear of the restaurant, Sameen knew this would give Root a long look at her when she arrived.

* * *

While Shaw was making her plans, her men on a mission were getting ready for dinner, too.

Fusco called her in the dressing room, just as she was changing.  “Can you believe Tall, Dark, and Silent made dinner plans?” Fusco complained to Sameen when he called to update her.

“And the _case_ , Fusco?” she asked, trying to point out the reason she sent them.

“Yeah, well, I worked the file you sent me with the lead detective down here. She seemed to bite, but I’ll know better if my brilliant plan worked after old Blue Eyes _flashes_ her at dinner,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Shaw said, because that was confusing.

“His eyes; Maybelline. While I’m working my brain and butt off to sell this story, Pretty Boy is sitting there quietly,” Fusco complained.

“You each have your strengths,” Shaw said, knowing what her friend needed to hear.

“Yeah,” Fusco agreed, and didn’t know it, but his chest puffed out a little. “Did you speak to… _anyone_ today?”

“Yes, but apparently, it’s completely confidential, so I can’t tell you about it,” Shaw teased, knowing this would irk her friend. Then, she remembered the nice the thing she said about him. “AND…,” she added in a loud tone, “… she can’t tell you anything either.”

“Great,” Fusco groaned. “Listen, I’m adding things to your bill.”

“Like what?” Shaw balked.

“Dry cleaning and stuff,” Fusco said.

“Spill something on your tie, there, Lionel?” asked the other messy eater.

“Sorry, can’t hear you; you’re breaking up,” he said, making a static noise into his phone. “I’ll call you later.”

“Get my computer!” she barked, impolitely into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fusco said, because that’s where they were going there after dinner.

* * *

He hung up and flopped on the large bed, throwing his shoes and socks off. He no sooner got settled when there was a knock on the door. He dragged himself off the bed and answered it. “Geez, do you _ever_ sweat?” he asked the man who always looked perfectly coifed.

“I did when Shaw asked me to accompany you,” Reese joked and almost, but not quite, smiled.

“You’re wearing a white shirt to a BBQ joint?” Fusco almost laughed.

“It’s the only color I own,” John admitted. It was something that Joss had been working on recently.

Lionel went back inside and got ready. This is to say, he put his socks back on and ran his hand through his hair.

“Let me do the talking,” Fusco told Reese.

“Sure, Lionel,” Reese said because the man was never worried.

As the two men sat at the table, they drank their drinks, waiting for their hostess.

“Holy crap!” Fusco said, into his soda glass when he saw the transformation. The woman, who had been dressed in a drab colored suit at the precinct, was now in a purple jersey-knit dress. “I’ve seen latex gloves that weren’t that tight,” Fusco said and Reese kicked him as he stood up to welcome her.

“Detective Mathers,” John smiled as he greeted her. By the time Fusco closed his mouth and was standing up, the other two were sitting down.

“Call me Cheryl,” the woman smiled.

John had to kick his partner again to keep him from staring. It wasn’t that Lionel was taken with the woman; he just worried about explaining this part of the trip to his girlfriend. He couldn’t wait to tell his partner at work, though.

John was about to demonstrate just how suave he was when he suggested to Cheryl that she order for them. Fusco wondered how come Reese didn’t seem at all nervous when it was his girlfriend who carried a gun.

The two men eventually focused and worked in tandem as Fusco discussed the case and John; well, John smiled. His smooth demeanor softened Fusco gruff way of presenting the facts.

“I really didn’t want to discuss work,” Cheryl said, but pulled out the file. “The coroner did confirm that the blunt object, could in fact, be that frying pan.”

“Hot dog!” Fusco yelled and quickly looked at the other two at the table. “I mean, that’s good.”

“So, you think _your_ guy ordered this hit?” she asked.

“We can connect him to the guy who bought that pan. We know he crossed our guy in New York and didn’t live to tell his side of the story,” Fusco fabricated.

“So, all in all, it’s one more case to close and attach to our NY guy.”

“Well, I guess I _owe_ _you_ , then,” Cheryl said, but she was definitely looking at Reese.

* * *

When the doorbell rang at Zoe’s apartment, she turned the flame down on the stove and ran to answer the door. Realizing she forgot to remove the apron she had put on, she hurriedly whipped it off and threw it in the closet. “Well, hello,” she said when she saw Janine standing on the front steps that led up to the door.

“Am I too early?” Janine asked, even though the woman had an internal clock that always got her to where she was going on time.

“Any time you come is perfect,” Zoe said, when Janine stepped through the door.

“How very _wicked_ of you to say,” the younger woman teased as she leaned in to kiss Zoe.

“OH!” Zoe said and what she really meant was; ‘ _So, it’s going to be that kind of evening!’_

“Do you smell something?” Janine asked, and Zoe thought she should admit she was drunk on her perfume, but suddenly, the burning odor took over.

“Dammit!” Zoe said and rushed to the kitchen where she opened the stove just in time. “Oh, good,” she said, because it was only the edge of the quiche was singed.

“Look at you, being all domestic,” Janine smiled as she watched.

“I hope you like it,” Zoe said, and it surprised the younger woman that this very confident woman sounded concerned about this.

“I’m sure I will love it if you made it,” Janine assured her.

“And I thought this wine?” Zoe said and showed the bottle of zinfandel to Janine. Zoe opened the bottle and poured Janine a glass and was about to pour herself one, when her guest remembered dessert.

“I was a little confused what you wanted me to bring for dessert,” Janine said, putting her hand into the canvas bag and pulling something out.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Zoe apologized for confusing her. “I thought anything …”

But then Janine produced what she brought and placed it down hard on the table. “I thought if I got this,” she said of the fancy liquid chocolate in a container, “… we could _dip_ … whatever we wanted.”

In spite of the fact that this was Zoe’s fantasy playing out as if Janine had read her mind, it still took the woman by surprise. She wanted to say something, but all the blood that usually was in her brain, was rushing to other places. So distracted was she, that she continued to hold the wine bottle over her own glass, until it overflowed.

“Thirsty?” Janine smiled and touched Zoe’s hand to stop her pouring anymore.

In fact, Zoe felt extremely parched at the moment, as the room suddenly became overwhelmingly – hot.

* * *

If the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, the shortest fuse on Root was seeing Sameen walk into the restaurant that night. Hips swayed as long legs and high heels carried the tightly outfitted woman towards her.

Root’s reaction was instantaneous.

The bright blue background of the dress, and the multitude of white stars, made it difficult for anyone not to notice Sameen when she entered. Her eyes fixed on her wife as she walked past tables of turning heads.

“Oh… my… God,” Root let out and forgot to breathe.

Sameen was purposely teasing Root as shoulders and hips swayed, her gait slow enough that Root could drink her in, head to toe.

“Sweetie,” Shaw said, and bent over slowly to kiss the lips that remained parted.

“Wow,” Root said and Sameen smiled, but didn’t move. A waiter, carrying a large tray of plates, walked right into the door when his eyes locked on Shaw’s perfectly round derriere. “I don’t think I’m breathing,” Root admitted.

Sameen took her hand and placed over Root’s heart. “Deep breaths, in and out; trust me, I was a doctor,” came the sultry suggestion.

Michael smiled at the sight of her parents, but was more interested in the Cheerios Root had handed her.

“Hello, pumpkin,” Sameen said, kissing her daughter. The tiniest yell informed her mother that as happy as she was to see her, Sameen was interrupting her meal.

Like mother; like daughter.

Sameen took her seat across from her wife, who could not stop staring back. “Is… that… new?”

“Scotch, neat,” Shaw ordered her drink. “I just bought it.”

The waiter returned with the drink and the menu. He told them the specials of the day, but when he got to the dessert selections, Shaw put her finger up to stop him. Looking directly across the table at Root, she announced; “We won’t be here that long.” That sly smile alone made a low groan escape Root’s mouth, even though she was biting down hard on her lower lip.

The waiter brought over bread, but it went untouched as the couple held hands across the table. Time slowed down as the lovers simply stared at one another.

“You put that dress on… just for me?” Root asked, because she liked seeing Sameen all dressed up.

“No,” Shaw said and confused her. “I put it on for me, because I look so good in it,” she said, dark eyes rising to look right at her. “But… I’ll be taking it off... just for you.”

Root couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to get out of there and fast. She needed help, though, in coming up with a plausible reason to skip the entrée and go straight for dessert.

“Michael looks tired!” Root meant to suggest, but she sort of yelled it so that everyone looked over.

“Are you sure…?” Shaw asked, because even though she set that fire, she didn’t realize Root was already at the boiling point.

“YES! I’m certain of it,” Root said, taking Michael out of the seat and picking her up. “We have to go. Now!”

Shaw was caught between doing what was best for her daughter, and the steak that had just be placed down in front of her. Root read that confusion immediately. She bent down and whispered: “Shaw, I _really_ need to get you out of that dress.”

That night, Sameen proved to the world that there was something that could make her leave a sizzling steak on the table.

Root.

“We have to go!” she said to the confused waiter, as she jumped up and knocked her chair over.


	74. Dress for Success

As if sensing that her mothers wanted to have some time together, Michael fell soundly asleep by the time they returned to the apartment. The ride home did nothing to appease the fire and as soon as Root came back downstairs with the baby monitor, Shaw was there. In the dim lights, she reached out to her wife and pulled her in.

“You look… _so_ … good,” Root said, now feeling the fabric, as hands touched Sameen’s back.

“I know,” smiled the woman who didn’t lack self-confidence. “But you…,” Shaw said, pulling back to look at the face she adored looking at, “… You,” she said again, but couldn’t finish.

Root gave her signature face smile, which started in her light brown eyes and finished at her lips. “Me?” she asked with as much innocence as she could.

Shaw wanted to keep things slow; let it build until she could gently push Root over the edge, but staring at this woman made it almost impossible. “I would do anything for you,” Shaw declared.

Root practically giggled as she imagined all the things she wanted Shaw to do. “Would you let me…?”

“Yes,” Shaw said, because she was starting to lose this playful game. “No,” she said to herself, because she wanted to make this about Root.

“No?” Root all but pouted, but that meant her lip caught Sameen’s eyes and tantalized her back into staring.

“I mean…,” Shaw said, trying to remember which she meant.

By now, Root’s hands had traversed Sameen’s back and where slowly making their way up her sides. “I really… like this color on you,” she said smiling.

“And the stars? Not too much?” Shaw asked on purpose.

“Not... this one,” Root immediately picked up on and placed her finger on a white star near her shoulder. “And certainly not these,” she continued her random counting of the ones over Shaw’s breasts. “Definitely… not… these,” she said, her eyes locked on Shaw’s.

Sameen enjoyed her wife’s gentle touches, but it was making it harder to keep this up. “Wait until you see…,” is all she had to say to motivate Root to unzip the dress.

“I can’t wait any more,” Root confessed and pulled the dress slowly down her wife’s form, letting it bunch at her feet. “I know every…curve of your body,” Root asserted, as her hands demonstrated that they knew their way around. It wasn’t just Sameen’s curves, accentuated by the sexy underwear that made Root breathless; it was the softness of her skin, over the hardness of those muscles.

And then Shaw issued a warning that – in truth – held _no_ substance at all.

“I’m going to make you beg,” she said and if it weren’t for the fact that Root wanted this to last, she would have pleaded right then and there.

This playful banter was the fuel for Root and Shaw on any given night. But, Root was still pushing old memories away; and Shaw was still asserting that she would never let harm touch her wife. They were buried deep, but they were still there.

Shaw pulled Root to the couch, where she gently pushed her down. Standing between her opened legs, she began to slowly lower the strap on her lace bra. “I can’t wait for you to…,” is all she had to say and Root put her hands up to touch. But, Shaw playfully swatted them away; demonstrating what turned Root on the most.

Shaw was in charge.

Sameen turned around slowly and bent over, giving her wife a different view. Again, a groan escaped Root’s lips as urgency grew so deep inside her, she could almost feel its weight. Shaw turned back before Root could enjoy the touch and braided her fingers in Root’s.

“I’m _not_ that kind of girl,” Shaw said in a spirited tone.

“That’s _really_ too bad,” Root said, as Shaw straddled her legs. Staring up at Sameen, it was easy to get lost in how beautiful she was. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” Root confessed.

“Oh, but I very much am,” Shaw immediately assured her. “I always will be.”

Between the heartfelt declarations of love, and the sensation of the sexy body on hers, Root’s hands became forceful at removing anything in their way. “God, I want you,” she said and Shaw could tell from the perseverance of those tugs, it was time.

She pushed at Root’s clothing until nothing separated them but skin. “I was thinking of using a vibrator,” Shaw confessed in Root’s ear; “… but I’m already _jealous_ of a machine spending too much time with you.”

Root was caught in a laugh when Shaw clearly demonstrated that she was far more skilled. “Oh, God, there, yes…,” Root encouraged Sameen. “Now, please… I can’t take…. SA-MEEEEN!”

Jagged breathing from both women showed just how much they both enjoyed that. Only someone who knows your body… inside and out … can escalate you to an agonizing tension before leaving you a washed in ecstasy.

Root’s breath was barely even when she asked; “Can you wear that dress to work tomorrow?”

* * *

Things were still heating up in Texas; but for very different reasons.

Detective Mathers was headed for a very different let down. Having done her homework, she had checked the database on Detective Stills. A fact that nearly made Fusco choke on his coke. When she excused herself to go to the ladies room, the Machine informed Lionel via text that she had.

“Holy Texas BBQ!” Lionel said, coughing on his soda. “Listen, Wonder Boy; she checked you out in the database.”

“Am I there?” John smiled from his glass.

“Apparently, you are,” Fusco said, reading the text. “And now she thinks you’re not married.”

“I’m not,” John pointed out – just to annoy his partner.

“I know a woman who is very handy with a Glock that won’t think that’s funny,” Fusco reminded him.

Okay, Fusco had a point. “I’ll take care of it,” John said because this wasn’t the first time he had to break it to a woman that he wasn’t available.

“So, this is what it’s like to sit at the Cool Kid’s table,” Fusco said, aware that John’s confidence came from experience. “Just remember, we’re not done here, just yet.” Even Lionel knew that their host might try to elongate their night … or their stay … if she wanted to. “You better think fast, because here she comes.”

Cheryl did return to the table, and she wasn’t going to mention the case again, because she was hoping the visitors would stay. She was feeling like she was sitting with a third wheel, and was wondering how to get John alone. “I could hand over our file tomorrow – if all the pieces come together,” she said, when dessert was served.

Fusco stared at her, then at John. He had all but glued the pieces for her, so he wasn’t really sure what more he could do.

But Reese did.

“That would be great,” he said and looked back at Lionel. “We’ve been working so hard on this case that once it’s over, we’re hoping to get some time off.”

And with that, John put his hand on Fusco’s – and held it there. He pressed down when he felt Lionel jerk, as if trying to pull his away.

It would have been hard to say who was more surprised by the planted gesture; Cheryl or Lionel. Both their eyes grew wide as they took that message in.

“No one knows,” John smiled back at her – a clear indication that he trusted her.

By this time, Fusco realized what John was doing and worse, realized he had to go along with it. “No one,” he said, but it came out in such a high pitched squeak that he almost didn’t recognize his own voice.

“Oh,” Cheryl smiled to cover the disappointment.

“But, here’s to new friends,” John said, releasing Fusco because he had stopped breathing.

Reese still managed to charm the woman, even though she now understood he was completely unavailable to her. Now that there was no sense in delaying their working together, she assured John that she would send the case over to them in New York and would consider it closed.

* * *

Fusco was pacing the parking lot when John returned. “I don’t care if you are cemented in your masculinity; don’t ever do that to me again!” Fusco yelled.

“So, you want me to tell Shaw, then?” John asked.

“Don’t… do not… don’t even think,” Lionel commanded.

By the time the two men got to the library, they only had fifteen minutes until closing time.

“Where is it?” John asked and Fusco checked his phone.

“Old storage room, downstairs and to the left,” Lionel said.

“You want to distract or retrieve,” John asked because that’s what partners do.

“You can be the muscle this time,” Fusco said, still unnerved by dinner.

Getting to the storage room was not an issue for John, as he found the one entrance and unlocked it. Getting into the room proved to be easy, too. But, then John looked at the pile of outdated computers and realized what the issue was going to be. “Need a little help here, Lionel,” he texted his friend.

Lionel was too busy asking the librarian for a book on fly fishing. John tried a few more times, but to no avail. Finally, he reappeared upstairs. “I’ll look at this one,” Lionel said and the woman reminded him they were closing in five minutes.

“You had _one_ job, Reese,” Lionel complained when John came back empty handed. Reese explained the issue and now, Lionel texted the issue to the Machine. “Go back down there, she said,” he explained.

When John returned, the Machine had found the computer. Sending a signal to his phone, it would indicate when it was near the machine with the serial number on it. John finally found it and pulled at the desktop to remove it.

In the meantime, Fusco hemmed and hawed upstairs, until he saw his partner emerge with the bundle in his arms. Fusco started to walk towards the library with a stack of books – and dropped them on purpose. She ran to help and Reese made his escape. Fusco then had to say he changed his mind, and leave the woman to return the books to the shelves.

“We better never try a life of crime,” Fusco complained as he got in the car and drove away.

“Yeah,” John agreed, thinking that was his least smooth operation to date.

* * *

Had Google Earth’s satellites been taking pictures of Manhattan Island, infrared cameras might have caught to especially hot spots. One was the Penthouse, where there had been a long and intense surge of heat. But, uptown, another fire was spreading.

Zoe stared at the container and then back at Janine. _How was it that this woman deciphered her half spoken messages so well?_ “Maybe quiche…,” she was suggesting could wait, when Janine was next to her.

“We could go straight for dessert,” she said as one hand flipped off the lid. She dipped her thumb in the sweet liquid confection and raised it to Zoe’s lip; that fell open on command. Holding the woman’s jawline, she ran her thumb over the bottom lip, saying: “I’m not what you’d call a chocoholic,” Janine confessed, “But…there isn’t a part of your body, I wouldn’t lick this off of.”

Zoe Morgan nearly collapsed.

Janine seemed sensitized to the least bit of encouragement and when Zoe’s tongue reached out to touch her thumb, she decided she was headed in the right direction.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, confusing her lover. “I dripped some of this… right here.”

Zoe had no idea where ‘ _right here_ ’ was; but when Janine’s cool tongue touched the heat of her collarbone, her hand shot out to the granite counter top to steady herself.

Janine’s light eyes turned from innocent looking to devilish in seconds. “I’d like to apologize in advance,” she said, taking Zoe by one hand, the container in the other.

“God, for what?” Zoe said, unless it was for her early demise because she was certain this woman could stop her heart.

“For the mess,” Janine answered, and stopped at the dining room table that was void of any dinnerware. “This will do,” she smirked.

“Are we?” Zoe asked, because it had never occurred to her to do it there.

“I’m going to drizzle this over your body,” Janine announced and didn’t have to touch Zoe; she fell back on the table all by herself.

“You… are…,” Zoe panted as her lover overlapped her legs.

(Wait for it….)

Janine smiled down at her; her eyes smoldering with desire, her hands reaching up for her own blouse. “I… am… ,” she said, and ripped open her own blouse.

Zoe stared up at the large “S” on the exposed t-shirt; her eyes wide – her mouth opened. Her head felt light as her mind and body slipped into overload.

“All for you,” Janine said in her own sweet voice; as if there needed to be any explanation.

Zoe's breathing labored; her eyes moistened; and her heart swelled with a happiness she never knew she could feel.

And that was all _before_ they kissed and knocked over the contain; spilling the contents alongside them.

Zoe gulped and went to get up, but her lover was not deterred. She was going to carry through on her promise.

“Don’t… you… dare… move,” Janine ordered her, as her hand slid into the spilled concoction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped this worked and no part wasn't offensive or in poor taste.


	75. Working Covers; Getting Covered; and Unusual Coverings

Fusco flashed his badge and Reese flashed his pearly whites, and that’s how they managed to get a computer on board with them. “It’s not like we could stop for bubble wrap,” Fusco whispered out of the side of his mouth to his partner. “Although, I could have put that on the tab.”

That wasn’t the last time he referred to the bill he was giving Shaw. He ordered breakfast and ran back to get the receipt. Reese shook his head that Lionel was so worried about documenting his trip. “I want her to see all the trouble we went to,” he explained, when they were sitting by the gate for the return trip.

“So far, she’ll probably only see how much we ate,” John pointed out.

“I’m making Shaw take us to dinner,” Fusco thought out loud. “And maybe, just watch us eat.”

“You have a weird relationship with Shaw,” Reese pointed out.

“Yean,” Fusco had to agree, “… I know.” They were quiet for a while when Fusco leaned over to John. “By the way, good work back there.”

John stared back silently, of course, and Fusco prepared himself for a sarcastic two word response. But instead, Reese replied; “It was good working with you, Lionel.”

Fusco stared for a second to make sure he heard right. “Yeah?” he said to make sure. “Thanks.”

 _Maybe_ he wouldn’t tell Carter what happened.

* * *

While the dynamic duo was on the early morning flight back to New York, two exhausted couples were barely awake. Well, Root was awake with the baby, but she brought her back into bed, where Sameen was sound asleep. She stirred a little when she heard her wife whisper;

“Mommy wore that dress _just_ for me last night. Didn’t she look pretty? Did you see Mommy’s shoes? They were gorgeous. But remember, Michael, clothes do not make the woman. You wear what you like and what makes you comfortable. Never dress in anything that you don’t want to dress in. You’ll find your own style,” Root lectured. Michael kicked her feet. “Let’s look at Mommy,” Root said, sharing her favorite past time. “See that tattoo? This one is my favorite because it’s all about us. She’s my arrow; see that there? You want to grow up to be like Mommy, Michael. She’s all the good things wrapped up in one person.”

A big smiled blossomed on Shaw’s face as she drank in the compliments. “Good morning,” she smiled and opened her eyes. “Tell her about this,” Shaw said and pointed to the “4AF”. “Mommy is my four alarm fire,” Shaw smiled and slowly took Michael and held her straight up in the air above her.

“Sweetie, I just…,” Root was cautioning Sameen, when she began to wiggle the baby and made her laugh.

Lifting her repeatedly was child’s play (forgive the pun) for Shaw. “That’s right; she is,” Sameen cooed, not listening to Root.

And then, Michael taught her mother an important lesson about when it’s not appropriate to jostle a baby.

“She just ate,” Root said, scrunching up her face when the white liquid spilled out of the baby’s mouth …. and down onto a very surprised Shaw.

“She… threw up… on me. From up there!” Shaw said, because spit up was one thing, but this was quite another. “Oh my God, Root; I’m covered.”

“Come here, honey,” Root said, taking the baby back as Michael stared at Shaw’s face, trying to decide if she was happy or not. “She’s staring at you,” Root cautioned her.

“It smells..,” Shaw complained and then looked over at her daughter. She immediately smiled and grabbed her foot to play with her. “I’m sorry I upset your tummy,” Shaw said and Michael knew it was okay. She yelled what she thought was – “YEAH!” but it made her parents smile.

“I’m… going… to take… all of this… into the shower,” Shaw pointed to herself, and proceeded to get up very gingerly from the bed.

Just then, Bear and Shadow were walking in when they stopped short at the sight of Sameen.

‘ _What the hell_ …?’ Bear blurted out in a bark.

‘ _I wouldn’t even eat that_ ,’ Shadow concurred.

“I do not need you two judging me first thing in the morning,” Shaw growled back, as the two dogs moved backwards, out of the room.

‘ _I’ll never unsee that_ ,’ Bear complained.

* * *

Root brought Michael downstairs and was very happy to see Azar there. But truly, her mind was somewhere else. “Oh, hi!” she said, happy to see the woman who had asked if she could take Michael to the museum.

“There’s my girl!” the grandmother said affectionately.

This was perfect! Root could leave the baby with grandma, and take care of what was foremost in her mind. “She needs… a bath… I’ll help…,” she blurted out and Azar looked at the baby.

“She does?” she asked because nothing appeared on her clothes.

“She.. spit up on… Shaw,” Root said, pointing to the ceiling.

Azar took one look at the state of the clothes strewed all over the floor and the giggle that was bursting just under the surface in her daughter-in-law. “Well, I’ll take care of her… if you need to take care of...” Then, the woman laughed as Root’s long legs climbed the staircase; two steps at a time. “Oh, to be young and in love,” Azar said to her granddaughter.

‘ _Is that what they’re calling it, these days_?’ Bear barked at Shadow as they passed to go into the kitchen.

Azar joined them and sat Michael in her seat. “Root said she just ate,” Isabelle informed the woman as she handed her a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Yes, I heard,” Azar smiled and played with her granddaughter. “Is everything okay?” she asked the chef when she saw the concerned look on the woman’s face.

“I checked the refrigerator when I got here. Nothing was touched last night,” she explained why she was worried.

“Oh, I think there was a lot of touching going on here last night,” she winked to Isabelle.

“Ooh,” Isabelle smiled. “To be young and in love,” she echoed the same sentiment.

* * *

In spite of having survived her own blood curdling wounds, Shaw was reduced by the sight and smell of baby spit up. She shuddered when she removed her clothes and stepped into the shower with more trepidation than scientists at a biohazard spill.

Root was completely undressed when she appeared on the other side of that shower door.

“Root! No! You don’t want this on you,” Shaw cautioned her.

“Maybe not, but I certainly want you… on me,” she smiled and stepped inside.

“Don’t tell her I said this, but it is so… disgusting…,” Shaw grimaced.

“Then, we better get you all cleaned up,” Root said, each of those words exciting her more as she said them.

* * *

“They’ll be prunes,” Isabelle laughed forty five minutes later when the water was still running.

“But very happy ones,” Azar said, having bathed Michael, dressed her, and was having something to eat in the same amount of time. Then, she heard her daughter-in-law begging.

“PLEEEESE,” they heard Root almost whimper.

“Root, this is not appropriate for work,” Shaw was trying to convince her wife.

“PLEEEESE,” Root repeated and Sameen was pretty sure she was capable of repeating that word just like that a dozen more times.

Root’s eyes were flashing with the different ways she would enjoy seeing Sameen at work in that dress. One look at her wife biting her bottom lip, and Shaw knew she was off in Fantasy Land.

“Fine,” Shaw relented, “… but you just told me we have a no touching policy at work,” she smugly reminded Root.

“Maybe, but we also have one about disciplining employees who are very, very, bad,” Root said, getting so excited as she made it up that she could hardly get the words out.

“You do not,” Shaw laughed, trying to point out the fallacy of Root’s proposition.

“No, we do; we really do,” Root tried and would have absolutely made that a policy if she needed to.

Azar waited until the couple was done before walking back inside. “Well, Michael and I are off to the Museum of Natural History,” the happy grandmother announced.

“Oh, don’t forget to show her the Dzanga-Sangha Rainforest,” Root suggested.

“No, show her the reticulated python,” interrupted Shaw, “… or the T-Rex bones!”

Michael watched her mothers’ animations as they spoke. “Goodbye, Sweetie,” Root kissed her.

“Don’t let Grandma give you any weird foods,” Shaw cautioned her daughter.

“That’s a… lovely dress,” Azar noted of her daughter’s attire. Her expression said it all as she smiled from the elevator.

“See? I’m going to have to put up with this all day, Root,” Shaw complained as they went into the kitchen to eat.

Isabelle was less subtle. “WOW!” she said, seeing Sameen decked out in the bright blue and white dress. “That is… stunning!”

Her compliments only made Sameen feel more confident that people would take note all day. “See?” she tried, but Root was not listening.

“Put this on,” Root said, and took a linin napkin and actually put it around Shaw’s neck – like a bib. Shaw glared. “I don’t want anything to spoil that dress.” Root could hardly refer to it, without thinking of ripping it off.

“I might have to press charges,” Shaw huffed.

“Darlin, you can press whatever you want,” Root retorted, making her wife choke on the coffee.  Root simply pulled the napkin over to make sure nothing spilled on that dress.

Isabelle felt like she was watching her favorite show as she observed her two bosses. The banter and juxtaposition of their ways was like a symphony; complicated, but oh, so pleasing.  
She attributed Root’s quick hands as the reason Sameen left that morning without a spot on her new dress. Shaw had not stopped talking while she ate, which only increased the chances of something spilling out. Root not only managed to keep the dress stain free; she did it while eating her own breakfast.

* * *

“The things I do for you,” Shaw grumbled again when Root kissed her goodbye at work.

“I’ll do my best to reward your good work,” Root smiled back. “Unless, of course, you’re bad.”

Her wife might have had the best of intentions, but Shaw knew this unusual work outfit was going to get comments. She was very happy when she managed to get to her office without seeing another fellow employee; including her assistant. Shaw looked at her watch because it was so unusual for her to be late.

* * *

Her assistant, AKA the Westside Supergirl, had woken up on time, but was still lingering over breakfast. She had indulged Zoe in her fantasy until the two of them were smeared in chocolate. Two bodies slithered over each other, covered in the gourmet food that was intended to make fruit more decadent. That’s exactly where their love making went – for what seemed like hours.

“I have never eaten that much choc…,” Zoe was musing when Janine stopped her there.

“Neither have I,” she laughed at the innuendo.

“Who _are_ you?” Zoe asked, staring over at her lover in the shower, where the confection was washing away.

“What do you mean?” Janine asked, lathering her hands and washing Zoe’s hair.

“You are this dedicated, fierce woman who comes to me and becomes this totally hot, exciting, loving, caring woman,” Zoe explained. “You do things to me…”

But Janine’s mouth was back on Zoe’s lips, enveloping them, biting them gently. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone,” Janine offered her only explanation.

Zoe put her head into Janine’s shoulder. She wanted to say so many things; but always feared she was getting ahead of herself. She was in uncharted territory, too, and was afraid of spoiling it. “Neither have I,” she said.

Time seemed to slow down inside the luxury shower as both women enjoyed the sensation of touching each other. It was an hour before either of them were ready to walk out the door. Zoe had a meeting in New Jersey. Janine walked her to the waiting car where she kissed Zoe goodbye. “I’ll see you tonight?” Zoe asked and Janine smiled that the overly confident woman – was asking.

“Yes,” Janine answered and Zoe broke out into a big smile.

Janine then walked all the way downtown, never once paying attention to that internal clock that told her she was late.

* * *

She not only ignored that timer; she also didn’t notice Shaw when she arrived at work. People stopped to look at Janine because her demeanor was so obvious. She was humming away and never heard Martine call out to her. Martine decided she better go check at the same time Shaw was doing the same from her office.

“Janine?” Martine said, but then caught sight of Shaw’s dress.

“Martine,” Shaw nodded.

“Shaw,” Martine answered back.

The weight of her friend’s stare was heavy. “Root… made me wear it,” Shaw said and cringed with the way it came out.

In truth, it was the only plausible explanation for Martine. “Oh,” she said sympathetically. “They hurt?” she asked of the stilettos.

“No,” Shaw said because she could work any shoe.

“Good,” Martine replied. Satisfied that there was a reason Shaw was dressed like that, the good friend turned her attention back to the other woman that concerned her. “What’s up with you?” she asked, hoping there was a reasonable, and as short, explanation.

Janine looked up at the two pairs of eyes that stared at her. “I think…,” she said, a smile bursting out on her face; “… I’m in love!”

Martine listened and then looked over at Shaw to see if that was a satisfactory clarification. Shaw shook her head and rolled her eyes. Full confirmation as far as Martine could tell.  
“Okay, well, don’t get yourself hurt,” Martine said back.

“Yeah,” Shaw agreed and returned to her office.

Martine may have escaped early, but Shaw was cornered when her assistant decided she wanted to share more detail about that statement.

“No, really, Shaw,” she said, as if Sameen had tried to counter her, “… I think I might be in love with her.”

In her enthusiasm, Janine put her hand on Shaw’s arm. Sameen slowly lifted it up and put it on her desk. “I’m very happy for you. I don’t understand it, but I’m happy for you.”

“What’s not to understand?” Janine noted, getting up and practically twirling around. “She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s caring, and she’s hot as hell…”

“OKAY… ,” Shaw barked and got up from her seat. “I get it; you’re in love.”

The more the enthused woman talked about it, the more she wanted to talk about it. “I love how she looks at me, you know? It’s like her eyes light up and it makes my heart skip.”

Sameen rolled her eyes, feeling like she was trapped. “That’s all good stuff. Good, so let’s ….”

“Do you know _what_ we did last night?” Janine whispered, ready to share her secret.

Shaw’s hand immediately went for her gun; but in that dress; there was no place to carry it. “Dammit, Root!” she said, when she remembered why her gun wasn’t handy.  
“I brought gourmet chocolate,” Janine said slowly.

For a second, Shaw’s mind registered the word as delicious food, and entertained the thought that her assistant was about to recommend the brand. “You didn’t ruin in with fruit, did you?”

“ _Forbidden_ fruit maybe,” Janine quipped because it was the first thing that came to mind.

It took a full second for that phrase to register with Shaw. “OKAY! I may not be armed, but I can still do damage,” she threatened to a very surprised visitor. “I could stab you with my stiletto.”

“You should try it, Shaw; I mean if you have never done it,” Janine said, unfazed by the threats.

 _That_ surprised Shaw more than the contents of the unwanted confession.

“It was really something,” Janine said, out of the side of her mouth, as she walked back to her office… humming.

Shaw clenched her eyes shut and pursed her lips, drawing in a deep breath to stay calm.

“Oh, by the way…,” her assistant said, popping her head back in, “… nice…dress!”


	76. Nice Saves

“I just know I’m going to regret going along with this,” Shaw murmured to herself as she went back to work. She had chosen the dress with Root in mind; never thinking she’d be parading around in it at work. She smiled to herself because she knew she’d appear in anything at work for Root. Then, she decided to keep that to herself because of what her wife might just suggest.

By the tenth time someone turned to stare at her, Shaw decided to teach them a lesson. She purposely talked to the guy who was gawking as he poured coffee, until it spilled on the floor. Then, she sashayed past a group of men that fell silent, until she heard one of them fall over from straining to stare at her.

“Amateurs,” she complained of some of her coworkers.

* * *

Later that morning, and definitely before she was prepared, Fusco walked into her cubicle; straight from the airport.

“Wow! Is that because me and Reese were in the _Lone Star_ state?” Fusco asked, noticing her dress immediately.

“And _here_ we go…,” Shaw said because she knew it was just a matter of time before the kidding started.

“I don’t know whether to salute you or … or…,” Lionel said because there was a multitude of thoughts going on right now.

“Or _what_ , Fusco?” Shaw barked, standing up now and practically meeting him eye to eye. As one of the shortest members of their little group, Fusco counted on being taller than at least Shaw.

“No, you look… _taller_ ,” he chose carefully. “They don’t hurt?” he asked, looking down at the reason for her increase in stature.

“No, and they can be used as weapons; did you know that?” she barked.

“Calm down, calm down. It’s just you don’t dress like this usually. What’s up, Maybelline?” he asked and parked himself in the chair.

“Do you have anything _else_ you want to talk about?” Shaw asked, hands on her hips now.

“Yeah, but I need you to lower those stars because you’re blinding me,” he said, waving his hand for her to take a seat. “Geez, you think you’d be in a good mood. Why are you so cranky?”

“I don’t know!” barked Sameen because she didn’t like being asked questions she didn’t have the answers to. “Where is my package?”

“You think I was going to lug that up here? My… _partner_ … is bringing it,” Lionel said.

“Your… _partner_?” Shaw asked, as if she forgot she sent Reese with him.

“We bonded,” Fusco explained and she rolled her eyes in response. “I showed him how real cops do things; it’s the least he can do.”

“Look, I’m very happy for your bromance…,” Shaw as explaining.

“What?!” Fusco said, unsure of that word. “Did he tell you something?”

“What?” Shaw asked, shaking her head in utter frustration because there was a bigger issue here.

“Did he say something about dinner?” Fusco worried Reese got to her first.

“Yeah, he said he’s thinking of asking you to the prom. Now, would you mind telling me how everything ELSE went!” she yelled.

“He didn’t say anything?” Fusco reiterated.

This seemed to be the price for having undeniably loyal friends; they drove you insane.

“Fusco, I’m going to get my gun and I’m going to shoot you if you do not – right this minute – tell me about what you went there to ACCOMPLISH!”

Lionel looked at his friend; surprised and confused by her total exasperation. “Okay,” he said, thinking her shoes must be tight because she was so on edge.

“Everything is fine. Cheryl closed her case after connecting it to our guy in New York. Now, I just gotta tidy things up here and it should all go relatively unnoticed.”

“Cheryl?” Shaw asked.

“The detective on the case,” he explained and pulled out a bunch of papers. “I laid out all the dots and practically put the pen in her hand to connect them.”

“What is this?” Shaw said, when he placed them on her desk.

“Receipts,” Fusco explained.

“What? What about evidence?” Shaw pressed.

“Backpack was left there, but I told her our guy often left evidence to connect the family to the crime scene. Remember, this was over twenty years ago, so I tried to impress that mob hits weren’t so sophisticated,” he said, looking around for food. “You got chocolate or something? I’m starving.”

“ _Don’t_ say… that word here,” Shaw demanded.

“Does dressing up always make you this weird?” her BFF asked.

She was about to yell something when Reese walked in, carrying her computer.

“Nice dress, Shaw,” he said because it was that noticeable.

“Thanks, now can everyone get off my dress?” Shaw asked. “Is that it? How do you know that’s it?”

“Your friendly neighborhood electronic nosey-body helped,” Fusco explained.

In the meantime, Reese hooked it up and turned it on. Fusco complained he could have had three breakfasts by the time the monitor showed anything but a blinking curser. “Geez, that was a long time.”

But then the monitor produced the proof that Shaw was looking for. Under the Oregon Trail game was a list of high scorers. Slowly blinking, in the top most spot, was “ _ROOT_ ”. People got less teary eyed at military homecomings than Shaw got at seeing that.

Fusco looked at her and then at Reese; his expression all but reading ‘WTF’? “What have you done with my friend?” he blurted out when Shaw sniffled back a tear.

Shaw bit her lip and looked away. “Any trouble?” she asked Reese who assured her there was none. “I owe you guys,” which was her way of saying thank you.

“Sure thing, Shaw,” Reese said, smiling and walking out.

Sameen turned back to her friend who obviously wasn’t going to give her the short version. But then he did something that would shine the light on why Shaw cared about this guy. “Oh, look,” Fusco said, pulling out the tiniest pair of boots Shaw ever saw. “For Michael,” he said, clunking the tiny cowboy boots on her desk.

“She can’t wear these,” Shaw balked, but picked them up and reconsidered. “They’re cute.”

“See?” Fusco said, smiling and right then and there, sealed his nomination for Michael’s Godfather.

* * *

Root had spent the morning taking care of business, including finding out that the case of the discovered body in Bishop, identified as Hanna’s father, was now considered closed. “We’ll let Sameen tell me,” she cautioned the Machine.

With that, Root remembered how her wife was dressed that morning and decided she really needed to see her. Her timing, as it turned out, was impeccable.

“Well, hello,” Root said from the doorway … feet away from the corner where Sameen’s surprise was sitting.

Fusco and Shaw jumped up at the same time, both of them racing to the doorway to block Root’s entrance. Now, Root stared as Fusco’s square body, and Sameen’s curved body, competed for the same space in front of her. “I always suspected you two were joined at the hips,” Root smiled and only she could get away with saying that.

“Ha, joined at the hips,” Fusco laughed awkwardly. “Not my type,” he tried to say.

“Yeah, turns out; Reese is more his type,” Shaw grunted, pushing him out of her way. Now, her body was practically against Root’s.

“Well, I’m glad you won,” she teased. “I was coming to see you…,”

“And here I am,” Shaw said, smiling, but not budging.

“There she is,” Fusco repeated and when he said it, Shaw thought it sounded too obvious.

“Breakfast?” Shaw asked Root, taking her elbow to lead her away.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Fusco said and then realized from Shaw’s look that she didn’t mean him.

“I actually have a meeting,” Root pouted. “But I would love to have _something_ to eat after that.” Her finger went out and touched Sameen’s hip, gently pushing it. Sameen looked at her hip and then up at Root’s face; whose innocent expression clearly read – ‘ _I did not say that_ ,’ … but she did.

“Sure,” Shaw said, her throat very dry because she could feel Fusco’s breathes behind her.

But Root wasn’t done.

“I’ve been having some issues with an employee,” she said and raised her eyebrows at Shaw, “… and I would love your input on how to _handle_ them.”

Again, Fusco thought about the question. “Troublemakers?” he asked to be sure.

“I hope so,” Root answered and now Shaw clenched her eyes closed.

“We got rookies like that,” he mused, thinking he was being helpful. “A firm upper hand seems to help.”

_Now_ , he had Root’s attention. “Is that so?” she asked, but now she was staring back at her wife.

“Root, I’m begging you,” Shaw mouthed, barely audible.

“Yeah, you just got to teach them the ropes,” Fusco was adding.

“Ropes? And show them who’s boss?” Root asked, and really, really hoped the answer to that was yes.

“Well, yeah, I guess, in a way,” Lionel said, unsure he would take that hard an approach.

“You are so resourceful, Detective,” Root smiled at her friend who beamed.

“Sure, any time. Well, I gotta go,” he said. “You got everything here?” he asked Shaw to be sure.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good,” Shaw said, because she couldn’t express what she was really thinking.

He said goodbye, shrugging his shoulders behind Root because he didn’t know what else to do.

* * *

“How about we step into your office…,” Root was suggesting, and that was the last place Shaw wanted to go.

Shaw had to think of something fast; something that would stop Root in her steps.

“Actually, I was just… on my… way…,” Shaw said slowly, hoping the idea would form in her head, “… out.” That was all she had.

“Out where?” Root wanted to know.

“Outside… to…get…,” Shaw pointed, but could see Root was waiting for the destination, as she wracked her brain for the rest of that sentence.

“To get?” Root asked quizzically.

And then, she remembered her assistant’s advice.

“……gourmet chocolate,” Shaw smirked.

“Gourmet chocolate?” Root asked, not terribly surprised given her wife’s pension for food.

“In… a… container?” Shaw said, with a clear expression of _‘you know what I’m talking about_ ,’ written on face.

It took Root a minute to make that sharp turn her wife just made, but once she caught on, there was no going back.

“Oh!” Root said, “… for us?” to asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, for us,” Shaw said confused, thinking who the hell else would they use melted chocolate on.

“Really?” Root asked, because this would be the second spontaneous thing Sameen did in two days.

Root’s need for confirmation was making Sameen question this entire train of thought. “Yes?” she guessed at the answer.

She guessed correctly.

Root threw her arms around Sameen and hugged her. Just then, Janine walked back in, and upon witnessing the hug, smiled from the doorway. Shaw saw her; Root didn’t.

“I thought Fusco’s suggestion of rope and a firm hand was going to be fun, but chocolate?” Root all but squealed.

Shaw lunged forward into Root’s lips, in an attempt to push all those words back in her mouth. But it was too late.

The two thumbs up motion from Janine told Shaw she had not missed a word.


	77. Slippery Slope

Armed with all of Fusco’s suggestive words that she managed to twist, and the idea that Sameen was proposing a totally new idea, Root floated back to her meeting. Seated at the table with her staff, people fell silent and wondered why their boss was staring off into space with a grin on her face. And while Root was caught up in imagining what this was going to be like, Shaw was getting instructions.

“You took my suggestion!” Janine all but squealed, clasping her hands together. 

“Yeah, look, I…,” Shaw was going to explain, but that ship had sailed.

“Shaw, here’s what I recommend…,” the assistant began and it was in the most discrete tone Shaw had ever heard the woman use.

“No, it’s okay; I got this,” Shaw said, afraid the woman would share a detail.

“Are you sure? You can learn from my mistakes,” Janine said – for the first time in their relationship. Ever.

“No, I’m good. You just keep Root away from my office and I’ll … go… away,” Shaw smiled, grabbing her pocketbook because, much to her chagrin, she had no pockets.

“Okay,” Janine said, sad not to be able to offer her valuable insights. “Shaw?”

“Almost out,” Shaw said, when her foot touched the other side of the entryway. “Yes?”

“Get a squirt bottle…,” Janine said and was totally surprised when her boss stuck her fingers in her ears and started yelling. “Some days, she surprises me. Maybe I should write this out for her.”

* * *

The woman, who had canvassed roads with land mines with more finesse, entered the gourmet food store; looking every bit like a fish out of water. Her military training of getting in and out of a place was about to be hit head on by the multidimensional aroma of the various delicious foods wafting up from the counters. Her brain was no match for her nose. And since Sameen was dressed in an eye catching outfit, she was an easy mark for the man behind the counter who openly tempted her with food.

“Try this,” he said to the blanketed epicurean. “Is that not the best thing you have ever tasted?” he smiled. He had startled Sameen and she was so afraid he’d ask why she was there, that she accepted the thinly sliced piece of meat wrapped around fruit. “Prosciutto and cantaloupe,” he smiled temptingly.

“Ohmawgawd,” Shaw groaned as the salty and sweet flavors exploded in her mouth.

“Right?” the man said. “Try this,” he said, handing the woman another piece, this time the thinly sliced ham around a piece of honeydew slice.

It was the perfect thing to take the edge off, as far as Sameen thought. “Wow!” Shaw said, because the woman never had the rather common combination before. “I usually don’t let fruit near my food,” she quipped and he laughed.

“It’s on special this week,” he smiled, having made a successful pitch.

The sampling was over and Shaw went back to finding what she came in for, but with a very different attitude. The small selection of the delicious food was enough to renew her calmness. She had wandered up and down the small aisle in a food induced stage, when she finally found what she was looking for. She looked down at the multitude of choices. “Couldn’t give me a name?” she complained out loud about her assistant.

Just then, someone snuck up behind Sameen as she was making her selection, and whispered: “What are you looking for?”

Sameen’s heart jumped out of her chest as her hand let go of the container she had selected.

“GEEZUS!” she said, turning and seeing her sister standing there. Shaw’s breathing labored as she grabbed her heart and fell against the shelving.

“Wrong religion,” Ayala quipped, teasing her older sibling.

Shaw looked up at her sister and then, to Martine who stood a few feet behind her, shaking her head.

“Didn’t we talk about a shorter leash?” Shaw said to her friend and was dead serious.

“What are you getting?” her sister asked, because they stopped in to pick up sandwiches. “They make the best vegetable wraps.”

“Good to know,” Shaw said, trying to recover from her self-induced panic. “Okay, I’ll see you...”

“Look at you,” Ayala said, taking a step back now to see her sister’s attire. “That is gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” Shaw said, wishing one of them would walk away.

“Where did you get that? Is that Givenchy? It is, isn’t it?” Ayala fired questions.

“We have to go,” Martine tried to persuade her girlfriend to leave.

“Okay,” Ayala agreed and was stepping away when she remembered something. “Oh, we’re having a little party for mommy’s birthday.”

“Her birthday?” Shaw said, realizing she was totally unaware.

“She has one, you know,” Ayala teased. “Will you come?”

Shaw would have agreed to convert if her sister would have just left the store. “Yes, yes we will,” Shaw said, plastering a smile on her face.

“Good,” Martine said, taking Ayala by the arm. “We’ll see you there, Shaw,” the friend said, even though Shaw had no details.

Watching her good friend take her sister out of the store without food only convinced Sameen more that Martine was one in a million. Shaw decided she better grab and run before someone else found her. Selecting the first one she could get, she took it to the counter and paid.

“Do you want a bag?” the young clerk asked because most people brought their own.

“Of course I want a bag,” Shaw snapped at him with an incredulous look. “You think I want people seeing me with that?”

The young man stared for a second and then slowly, put the container in a bag. Then, with the item wrapped securely, she returned to work.

* * *

As usual, her trusty assistant was a step ahead of her.

When Sameen returned to her office, she dropped the food into her desk drawer and slammed it shut. She looked like she had just returned from the front lines.

“Mission accomplished,” she said and was about to go see Root when Janine came back in.

“I’m _not_ going to say anything,” said the woman who just contradicted herself; “…I am just going to leave this here…,” she said, standing in the doorway and leaning all the way over to place an item on Shaw’s filing cabinet. “I didn’t think you’d remember, so I got you one. Trust me; it’s the better way to do it.”

Shaw stared up at her, wishing her glare would turn to laser so she could make the woman retreat faster. A very knowing look was staring at her, waiting for confirmation that her message was received. The only thing Sameen could think of doing to get rid of her was to thank her.

Janine felt like she just initiated Shaw into the same club she joined. All she could do to express her satisfaction was to wink. “I guess I’ll just go make copies of this,” Janine said as she retreated, giving her boss the signal she was alone.

* * *

The entire episode left Shaw murmuring to herself as she left to go to Root’s office. “What would they give me?” Sameen wondered out loud, caught in a daze. “Involuntary manslaughter?” she said and now people on the elevator took note. Her head back, her eyes locked on the ceiling, Sameen went through how she would probably even get off if the judge met the people she was accused of harming. “I probably would get a medal,” she decided, by the time the elevator arrived on Root’s floor – where people rushed out to get away.

Root’s meeting was over and, in spite of her reverie, Root managed to make some sound decisions. One look at the distracted look on her wife’s face, told her Shaw needed some TLC.

“Are you okay, Sweetie?” Root said, taking her by the hand and sitting down on the couch.

“Why do I have to work with people, Root? Can’t I do my job remotely? Can’t I work from home and just text people things?” Shaw all but whined.

“Of course you can,” said the CEO of the company. “You could retire if you wanted.”

“You know I hate people, right?” Shaw said, and even though Root said she did, she knew that wasn’t true.

“I know what you need,” Root said, postponing her initial plan and instead, tending to her wife’s frazzled nerves. She make Sameen sit in a chair and stood behind her. Then, moving Sameen’s long locks out of the way, she began to massage her shoulders.

“Oh, God, yes!” Shaw said, as the tender squeezes released the tension in her achy muscles.

It was the phrase Root was hoping to hear, but for different reasons. Still, she needed to get Shaw to relax before anything else.

“It’s not them, Root; it’s me,” Shaw confessed as her head hung down and Root worked on her neck. “Me and people are like oil and water. We don’t mix,” she continued, and Root could tell by her slowing speech that it was working.

“I hope I’m not in that group,” Root teased, leaning into Shaw’s ear.

It took Sameen a split second, to reach her arm up and around and pull the unsuspecting Root into her lap. “Never,” she confirmed. She realized her complaining had interrupted her wife’s planned tryst. “Can you imagine an employee subduing her boss in broad daylight?” she teased.

“Are you? Subduing me?” light brown eyes looked up and asked. Shaw smiled thinking only Root would ask that.

“Oh, I’m not just _subduing_ , Mrs. Shaw-Groves; I’m _doing_ ,” Shaw smiled seductively.

Root wrapped her arms around Sameen’s neck and kissed her. Root loved this verbal teasing banter, but words then often failed her, as her brain sizzled from the excitement. “Yes, do...,” Root said as if that was the dirtiest thing her mouth could think of.

Shaw burst out laughing, grabbing her wife in her arms tighter. “Now, where’s that rope?” she asked because she knew the word alone was enough to set ambers glowing in Root’s eyes.

An entire lunch hour later, Shaw was straightening out her dress that had been practically ripped off her when they moved to the couch. “I like you in that dress,” Root confessed, “…but I really love you out of it.” Shaw watched as the goofiest smile appeared on her wife’s face. It seemed the cornier her joke, the broader the smile.

“I will see you at home,” Shaw said and left to return to her office.

She had a few things to pack up before leaving that day.

* * *

Shaw moved with stealth like moves to retrieve the three things she was bringing home. The damn pocketbook was slung over her shoulder and across her chest as she swore she’d never use one again. Hauling the thirty-eight pound was easy for the woman who could dead lift almost four times that weight. She was even managing it in her stilettos without as much as a disruption in her gait. The one thing that worried her was inside the plastic bag, dangling from her wrist. More than once, she twirled around to get away from an advancing person who wanted to help her carry the bulky item.

“Nope; I got it,” she repeated over and over. She finally escaped in her car, where the anticipated surprise was secured in the front seat. She called her mother and asked if she could keep Michael for dinner; explaining that she had something planned for Root. Of course, Azar was thrilled to spend more time with Michael.

Then, the hardest part of her plan happened. She had to explain to Isabelle that they would be dining later.

“You’re… going… to… eat… _later_?” the woman asked, trying to wrap her head around that concept.

Then, Shaw realized what she had in the bag was… technically, dessert. “Okay, something light,” Shaw changed her mind and Isabelle went straight away to preparing two plates. One with the recommended daily allowance for three hundred pound football players.

If there was ever a doubt as to the woman’s importance in her boss’ lives; she just had to look at her name and phone number, listed under emergency contacts on the refrigerator.

* * *

Once Isabelle left, and with her plan falling into place; Shaw decided to prepare her culinary surprise. She opened the bag with the gourmet chocolate and then looked around the room, as if there could be spies. Then, she remembered the computer and decided to lug that upstairs so Root wouldn’t see it. She kicked opened Root’s study and placed it on a desk; right near her monitor. Leaning down, under the desk, she plugged it in.

The communication box on Root’s monitor opened.

‘ _Is that the machine_?’ asked the Machine. She had, after all, found the serial number for Fusco.

“Yes,” Shaw answered, as she waited for an eternity for the program to open. “Think of this as your great-grandmother,” she laughed.

She didn’t know it, but the Machine did not find any humor in this. In fact, at the moment, she was running a diagnostic program to help her find out what her reaction was.

* * *

Happy to see the program up and running, Shaw returned to the kitchen. She opened the bag Janine gave and, upon seeing it, slammed it shut. “She wants me to put this in a teddy bear?” Shaw balked of the bear shaped empty plastic container that people usually store honey in. Checking her watch, and realizing Root was due any minute, she decided she didn’t have time to disagree.

Accounting for how long it would take Root to get home was easy. What proved challenging was getting the large mouthed container to pour quickly into the smaller one. “Come on,” she rushed the process. “There,” she said when it was finally full. Twisting the cap back on, or so she thought, Shaw decided to test it out. Raising it above her head, she squirted the bottle, expecting a small amount to drip out of the nozzle on top.

Instead, the pressing action made the top come completely off, spilling the liquid out and onto Shaw.

Root opened the kitchen door to see her lover drenched in chocolate. Thinking she was doing it on purpose, Root rushed to her.

“No!” Shaw called out, but it was too late. Root had hurried to Sameen and into the slippery mess at her feet. The two collided and fell back; Shaw softening the fall for Root.

“Are you okay?” Root inquired, looking down at her wife; her face covered in the splattered dessert.

“Yes, are you?” Shaw asked, and could feel the wet stuff oozing between them.

Both women, once assured no one was hurt, broke out into simultaneous laughter.

Root bent down and enveloped Shaw’s lips with her mouth, biting the bottom one and then, licking the chocolate off. “Much better than rope,” Root cooed.

Then, thinking her wife must be very uncomfortable, she started to get up. Strong hands pulled her down, to stay here.

And then proving that what Shaw lacked in pulling off novelty ideas without a hitch; she could make up for in sentiment.

“I want to be _under_ you, Root,” she said, her chocolate covered fingers pushing back Root’s hair – “… because there’s no getting _over_ you’re mine.”

It was words like that, spoken with all her heart that made Root fall in love with Shaw even more than the day before.

* * *

As our couple continued to ignore the mess they were making downstairs, the Machine was busy calculating upstairs.

‘ _Eighty seven percent chance Root will be upset if I destroy it_ ,’ she determined. ‘ _One hundred percent Shaw will try to destroy me_.’


	78. The Gift

Root was riding a wave of sensations as she looked at the chocolate covered lips. “Your words are as sweet as your lips right now,” she smiled at Shaw, whose hands were carelessly massaging chocolate into Root’s clothes.

“We’re _never_ going to be able to explain this,” Shaw proffered, looking at the state of their clothes.

“What’s to explain? I came home; found you covered in chocolate; and devoured you,” Root suggested and went back to kissing Sameen’s lips. It wasn’t just a hard on press of lips this time; now, it was open mouthed engulfment of her wife’s lips until she swiped her tongue across the bottom one. Hips moved up, pressing into Root as legs found a comfortable position and intertwined. “I’m sorry about your dress,” Root said and meant that for herself, too.

“I can get it dry cleaned,” Shaw assured her.

“I meant… the tear,” Root said, sitting up across Shaw’s lap and reaching up to rip the material, straight up the middle.

Now _that_ surprised Sameen. Not because her wife just ruined an expensive dress, but because it took strength to do that. “Are you secretly working out?” Shaw laughed, turned on by the sound of her clothes being so quickly discarded.

Root was turned on by that, too. “I can be _very_ determined,” she said to explain the sudden show of strength. Her hand pressed down on Sameen’s heart and felt it pounding now. Root’s eyes were glued to the scantily clad body that was void of chocolate. She grabbed the open top bear on the floor and twisted the top back on. Then, as if Janine had schooled her, she raised it over Shaw’s body and began to drizzle it over her. Root stopped only to unsnap Shaw’s bra. “Good choice of a front snap,” Root smiled down and she continued her work.

Shaw’s hands were sliding up Root’s thighs; leaving a trail of chocolate behind. Root bent down and enveloped Sameen’s left breast, then her right; her tongue in a frenzy of swirls as she tasted the sugary substance and the saltiness of skin.

“I love when you do that,” Shaw said, as her body shuddered from the manipulations.

Root felt her hand in the melted chocolate and brought her finger up to Sameen’s lip. Traipsing in along the lower lip, she allowed Sameen’s mouth to envelop the digit. Feeling the smooth, wet inside of her mouth made Root throw her head back in glorious agony.

A slow fluttering emptiness started below Shaw’s rib-cage and she suddenly became aware of how insatiable it felt. Each kiss registered deep within her stomach and in spite of the number of times they made love, everything felt new. Root was certain in her movements as she removed the rest of their clothes and started to slowly lead Sameen where she wanted her to go. As soon as Root’s hand touched her core, a fire exploded and her first orgasm came in slow vibrating waves that emanated outward to her toes and her head simultaneously. All of this served to charge Shaw with, not only energy, but a deep desire, to be right there with Root. She recovered quickly, faster than most women whose legs just turned to jelly from an earth shattering climax. She was the perfect ballet of movements – definite and almost rough, but gentle enough to tantalize Root’s skin. She smoothly switched places; which was not easy when you’re sliding in syrupy chocolate. Root looked up at Shaw’s body, a canvas of skin and chocolate; thrilled to see her hand prints around those round breasts. She grabbed Sameen’s rod like arms as she felt her wife’s tongue begin the long, sweet journey from her lips downward. The chocolate might have been on the outside, but Shaw’s energy was seeping into Root’s pours. She tried to move, but Sameen held her hands down, restraining her. Every time her body involuntarily shook, Sameen was right there to quiet it. Root let go – and swore her entire being melded into her lover. The sweetest agony built up inside and Sameen knew exactly where to direct her touch until Root gave herself completely and screamed her way down into mind blowing climax that would make her whimper.

Perhaps it was the novelty of the chocolate, but something happened that night that elevated our couple beyond just the physical. They renewed in each other, the belief that there was no one else in the world for them, but each other.

* * *

Now, chocolate covered and sweat laden, the two lovers lay side to side, breathing hard and smiling. “I will _never_ look at chocolate the same way again,” Root said, minutes after their third go.

“I’ll _never_ look at this kitchen the same way,” Shaw said and they both broke into laugher. “We need to clean this up.”

“I don’t think I can walk,” Root moaned.

“I’ll carry you,” Shaw teased and turned to kiss her wife.

They decided that even if they only had one set of footprints, Shaw would leave marks on the floor. “We need to clean up here,” Root said and stood up carefully. “I can’t feel my legs,” she laughed because of the length of time her muscles had remained tense.

Very gingerly, the couple slipped and slid their way to get dish towels to wipe off their feet and hands.

“I need to get you in the shower,” Root smiled.

“Yeah, I’m not sure of the skin tolerance for chocolate,” Shaw agreed.

“Right, that, too,” Root smirked.

Carefully, the two walked up the stairs, careful not to touch the banister. They made it into the shower and Root laughed because they were walking like two old ladies. She felt a pang of sadness when the water cascaded down on their bodies, washing the telltale signs of their adventure away. “This was one of the best ideas you ever had,” Root confessed. “Please think of more things like this.”

Shaw smiled her appreciation, and didn’t want to admit it wasn’t all her idea. “Sure,” she said, with an awkward laugh.

“Really?” Root said when Sameen agreed so readily.

“What?” Shaw asked, lost in her thoughts.

“You’ll come up with more of these ideas?” Root asked and the anticipation in her face was hard to refuse.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Shaw said, and was thinking – ‘ _How hard could this be_?’

* * *

The women took their time making sure every ounce of chocolate was cleaned away. They came out of the shower and donned robes and towels around their heads. Only then, did they hear Azar returning with Michael.

Now, their missing practically congealed as they hurried downstairs to see their daughter.

“She was a perfect angel,” Azar said, handing the sleeping baby to Root.

“She gets that from me,” Shaw said brazenly.

“She’s bathed, fed, and changed,” Azar said quietly while Root brought her upstairs.

“Thanks, Mom,” Shaw said, smiling as she gazed at her family.

“I just need a sip of water,” Azar said and proceeded to go into the kitchen.

“Sure,” Shaw said, her attention focused on Root talking softly to the baby.

“Azizam?” Azar called her daughter when she halted upon seeing the utter mess.

Sameen realized what just happened and cringed. She looked upstairs, but Root was already in the bedroom with Michael. “Yes, Mommy?” she said, with the most innocent tone she could muster.

“Come here,” Azar implored her daughter.

“Shit!” Shaw said under her breath and walked to the kitchen.

“What? What happened?” the woman asked of the chocolate smears that covered the floor, the island, the chairs, the refrigerator.

“Wow,” Shaw said, her throat getting tight. “Those… _damn_ … dogs,” she tried.

Her mother turned to look at her, as Sameen shrugged her shoulders. “What you do in your home is your business…,” Azar assured Sameen, who let out a sigh of relief that she was not asking for an explanation, “… but lying to your mother won’t be tolerated.”

Shaw was laughing at that statement when she looked at the serious expression on her mother’s face. “Oh, you weren’t kidding,” Shaw stated the obvious.

“You have a daughter, now, Azizam; we must always set a good example for her,” Azar said in a much softer tone.

“Yeah, but…,” Shaw tried and could tell from the raised eyebrow that this suddenly became a no-excuse zone.

“Do you want me…?” the woman offered and Shaw immediately yelled, ‘no!’ and pulled her mother out of the room.

“No, no; Root and I will… clean that…up,” Shaw said, unconvincingly because quite honestly, she hadn’t given it much thought.

“Okay,” Azar said and leaned in to kiss her daughter’s flushed cheek.

Sameen waited until her mother left in the elevator before opening up the kitchen door again to survey the mess.

“You didn’t think to warn me about the cleanup, did you?” she said out loud to her assistant.

Shaw went upstairs, after deciding the mess could wait. She had something to do, anyway.

* * *

After Michael was sleeping soundly in her crib, Shaw pulled Root to the bed. “I meant to tell you, everything is okay in Bishop. Fusco and Reese took care of everything.”

In spite of the fact that Root had already been updated, she expressed her relief again. “Oh, thank God. Thank you, Sameen, for taking care of that. We need to thank Lionel and John, too.”

“Oh, I’m certain he’ll extract his pound of flesh,” Shaw rolled her eyes. “But yeah, they’re good guys.”

“We have the best friends,” Root acknowledged.

“Okay, yeah, but don’t tell them. I’ll never hear the end of it,” Shaw complained. “Anyway, I was thinking… before they went down there… about something.”

“You were?” Root teased, leaning into Shaw to nudge her.

“I was…,” Shaw said, wanting to make this perfect for Root. “I was thinking… sometimes we need to look back at where we came from, right?” she began her soliloquy and cleared her throat. “Yeah, for Michael, right? I mean, she’ll want to know where we came from.”

Root listened attentively, unsure of where her wife was going with this, but willing to follow regardless.

“That’s true,” Root said and feeling encouraged she was on the right track, Sameen pulled her up off the bed.

“Right, so I want Michael to know _everything_ about you,” Shaw said, pulling her wife to follow her to the study door.

Root’s brow furrowed because the only thing she could think of on the other side of that door was the Machine.

“Did you do our genealogy?” she guessed incorrectly.

“No, this is just about you. Close your eyes,” Shaw said, and opened the door when her wife obeyed. She gently walked Root inside, as Root’s both hands held onto Sameen. Then, she turned Root to face her; the gift behind them. “I want Michael to know what a freaking genius you have always been, Root. I want her to see…,” she said and slowly turned her around to see the machine.

It took the genius a second to register that this was just like the one she spent hours on. “That’s just like the one in the library in Bishop,” Root exclaimed, amazed that Shaw would know that. “Did you ask them?” Root knew it had some connection to their friends being in that little town, but she wasn’t sure what.

Until, Sameen hit the key… and slowly… the black screen showed - “ _The Oregon Trail Top Ten_ ” players. In the number one spot, by a very large margin, in white letters and numbers was;  
ROOT 17650

The realization of what that was – staring back at the woman who sat at that very machine, all those years ago – rushed at Root and hit her like a ton of bricks. That avalanche swept everything away; leaving raw emotions exposed.

“Oh, my God,” she cried, her hand pressed to her mouth as tears streamed plentifully down her cheeks. “How?” she asked Sameen.

“I wasn’t there, Root, to pick up the pieces when everything fell apart for you,” Shaw whispered, putting her arms around Root’s waist from behind. “… but I’m here now and I just want to give you as much as I can to make up for that.”

It… was… the… _sweetest_ … _kindest_ … thing… _anyone_ had ever done for Root. She turned to see the slight doubt in Shaw’s eyes if she had done the right thing.

“Thank you, Sameen,” she said and kissed her; the tears now falling between them. “I can’t begin to tell you what this means to me.”

Knowing she had made Root happy was reward enough for Sameen. “You can teach…,” she was recommending when Root kissed her again. She grabbed Shaw’s jaw and pulled her in, kissing her repeatedly until they both needed air.

* * *

They didn’t make love again that night, but Sameen noticed that Root’s hugs were tighter than usual, her body constantly touching her. She didn’t know it, but it was Root’s way of reminding herself that this woman in her life was not a dream; Sameen was indeed, real.  



	79. Trace Evidence

The couple was resting upstairs, while all hell broke loose downstairs.

First, Daan walked in with the dogs from their walk. He had kept them over night, after an intense boot camp refresher course for Shadow. The canines immediately smelled the chocolate and pulled him through the kitchen door. Fortunately, he was able to restrain them and told them it would make them sick.  
Bear listened; after seeing what babies do when they throw-up; he wanted no part of it. Shadow had no long term memory and whined that she wanted some.

Isabelle was coming up in the elevator when Daan and company burst back into the carriage. “They can’t go in there!” he yelled and pressed the button to closed the door. “You tell Ms. Groves, I need to sit down with them!”

The chef, who often thought the dog sitter was a bit high strung, then turned to go into the kitchen. “OH MY GOD!” she said after the high pitched scream at the sight. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight; dark smears that covered the floor, cabinets, counter, and refrigerator. In that mess, were ripped clothes and towels. I _t looked like SVU met Willy Wonker._ “Oh, God, is that…?” the chef asked, afraid it was blood. It looked like there had been an awful struggle!

* * *

The scream was heard upstairs, alerting the couple that their best intentions to clean the mess up before anyone arrived – failed. Big brown eyes looked over at Shaw. “Michael could spit up again,” she giggled because it was a total lie and an excuse to get her out of facing the woman downstairs.

“ROOT!” Shaw said, feigning anger when in fact, her wife trying to lie was totally adorable. “Fine, but I’m blaming it on you,” she retorted and went downstairs.

After all, Shaw told herself; she was there when her mother witnessed it. How bad could this be?

* * *

Shaw had to admit; it looked a _whole_ lot worse in daylight.

“OH THANK GOD!” Isabelle yelled when she saw Shaw was okay. “I thought -,” she said looking at the mess and didn’t want to elaborate.

“It’s chocolate,” Shaw confirmed and the woman grabbed her pounding heart in her chest. “You’d think _you’d_ know that,” Sameen couldn’t help but point out.

“I thought it was, but – the mess, the clothes,” Isabelle said between gasps for air. She was having trouble wrapping her head around the confection on every place but a plate.

“Root… gets… pretty excited,” Shaw said, her voice getting lower with each word.

“Oh!” Isabelle said, finally getting the idea that this chaos was planned and not imposed. She thought – I guess they spilled it. “Oh, okay then. We’ll, I’ll just start…,” she said, but truly had no idea where she should even begin.

“No!” Shaw said. Then, she remembered someone else who had to deal with a possible similar situation. “Call Janine and ask her who they used.”

“Who they _used_?” Isabelle repeated, unsure of what she was asking.

“For the cleanup; just ask her,” Shaw said and gave Isabelle her phone. Shaw liked quick solutions to problems. Isabelle took the phone and called.

Shaw was leaving to get ready when she opened the kitchen door and ran into Fusco.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” he yelled in her ear.

“ARE YOU INSANE?” Shaw yelled back, startled.

“What the hell happened in here?” Fusco asked of the potential crime scene.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go!” Shaw barked, but he was pushing past her now to witness the mess.

Shaw tried to pull his arm to make him stay, but he was on the job. “We got a call,” he said and Shaw looked over at the chef on the phone.

“I was worried,” Isabelle confessed and went back to talking to Janine. “Yes, it covers quite a bit more than a dining room table. Sure, I can do that,” she was saying when Janine explained that if she could show the cleaning crew a picture, they’d know what they were in for.

Sameen was busy standing in front of Fusco and trying to push him out of the room with her body now.

“Oh, Detective!” Isabelle said, when she sent Janine the picture. “I’m so sorry; it was a false alarm.”

“You _called_ him?” Shaw asked and turned to look at the chef. Fusco took that opportunity to move closer.

“False alarm? Are you sure? Geez, Shaw; I’ve seen murder scenes that were less chaotic!” he noticed. “It’s no wonder you called.”

Shaw looked at the pair who suddenly bonded over this. “Okay, you!” she said to Fusco, “… out!”

“What about breakfast?” he asked.

“I can’t really get to the refrigerator,” Isabelle explained apologetically. Then, she put her hand out to try and figure out how there were so many upside down hand prints; as if reenacting would explain it.

“We’ll get breakfast at work,” Shaw said, shoving her hungry friend inside.

* * *

“What were you thinking in there, Shaw?” Fusco had to ask.

Oh, how she wanted to reply that she was thinking how wonderful it felt to be slipping around in chocolate with her wife. So, she did. She meant it to shock or at least stop him from talking.

“Geez, can’t you use whipped cream like regular people?” he asked, instead.

In the game of who could make the other shudder in disgust, Fusco just won.

“I don’t want to hear this; I don’t … just not another word, Fusco,” she yelled all the way back up the stairs.

Fusco laughed and went back in the kitchen. “I bet CSI would love to use this as a training ground,” he mused to Isabelle.

* * *

Root heard her wife stomping all the way back to their room. “Here comes, Mommy,” she said to Michael.

“It’s a three ring circus down there,” Shaw announced from the doorway.

“Oh, oh,” Root said because their plan had been to wake up early and clean it all up. “I hope you didn’t let Isabelle clean it up?”

“No, I told her to get some professionals in; people who won’t ask questions,” Shaw assured her.

“Oh,” laughed Root because she thought the whole thing was rather funny.

* * *

Zoe sat across from her girlfriend at breakfast that morning when the call came in. “Who did you use to… uhm… clean up things?” she asked Zoe.

“I knew a guy works for the mob,” Zoe teased. “Good at cleaning up things,” she laughed. “Oh, you’re serious. Who needs…?” she tried to ask and Janine said she’d explain later. “Here,” Zoe said, giving her the number of a woman she used to come in from time to time. “Never asks questions,” she said of the woman’s discretion.

“That’s what we need,” Janine said. Seconds later, the picture arrived and the woman dropped her phone into her eggs.

“Everything okay?” asked her concerned girlfriend.

“Oh, yes, better than okay,” Janine smiled, and wiped her phone off with the napkin. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, though. “Good job, Shaw,” she said under her breath. With that, she kissed her girlfriend hastily goodbye and headed to work. “Big project,” she said as she promised to call her later. It was the fastest she ever walked in her life.

Janine called the woman and gave her instructions on what was needed. “Yes, larger area than at Ms. Morgan’s,” she informed the woman. “Could take the afternoon.”

Janine didn’t want to pry; but she was dying to know. Not the details as much as the recognition that the Sameen Shaw had used one of her ideas. It practically, in her mind, made them sorority sisters.

* * *

There was no such connection for Shaw, who regretted giving Isabelle the phone. “Check my phone,” she instructed Root as they drove to work. “Did she…?”

“Take a picture of it?” Root finished her sentence. “Why, yes, she did!” she answered with a very different tone than Shaw expected. Sameen wanted horror; instead she heard exhilaration. “I think we should use this as our Christmas card!” Root said – and meant it.

As much as they were both in on this caper last night, they seemed to part ways in the aftermath. Root wanted to shout it from the rooftops; Shaw wanted to shoot people who even hinted at knowing it. Even the ones she told.

“I’m going to have to shoot Fusco today; I just know it,” she said, because he said he’d meet her at work. “I didn’t get breakfast and I’m going to have to listen to him.”

“You’re a good friend,” Root smiled and kissed her lips.

“Yeah,” Sameen responded, but did feel better about it.

That was, until she went to her office.

* * *

She had not sooner stepped into the area when Janine pushed back in her chair and smiled at her. “Good morning,” she said and Shaw said that wasn’t necessarily true when she passed by.

Then, she remembered the picture. “Did you ask for a picture?!” Shaw asked in disbelief. She wasn’t waiting for the answer, because it wasn’t really supposed to be a question.

Janine jumped up and followed her. “Only for estimate purposes; you know, so the cleaner would know that to bring. Actually, _how much_ to bring,” Janine corrected herself.

“And…?” Shaw asked when her assistant stopped talking, lost in the bemusement of that picture.

“Oh, and I called her. She’ll be there soon,” Janine said.

“Okay,” Shaw said and wanted to say thank you, but she really didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“I have to ask…,” Janine said, taking a seat in spite of the fact that every vibe in that room told her to leave.

“I have to check my gun for bullets,” Shaw retorted.

It wasn’t out of curiosity about the actual event that made Janine insist, but rather, the fact that she had sort of … kind of… instructed Shaw on what to do. Assuming she had followed them, how could what she saw in the photo happen?

“You did understand the purpose of the bear… was to… drizzle?” Janine asked the way one does when someone follows their recipe with disastrous results.

“Counting to five, and then I’m going to start shooting,” Shaw threatened, but Janine just flashed a smile at her that she understood.

“Okay, Shaw,” she said and went back to her office.

Shaw sighed her relief to be left alone, when Janine called back: “The important thing is that you had fun.”

Shaw’s head jerked down and hit the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Mez64 for reminding me that chocolate is not good for dogs. I almost had a different take on this - lol.


	80. Misery Insists on Company

Root smiled down at her daughter as she nursed, playing with her dark hair that swept her forehead. “Mommy was so thoughtful, wasn’t she?” she noted. “She sent Uncle Lionel and Uncle John to Texas to get that computer for me. I used to play that game for hours; I’ll teach you when you’re older. The secret is to buy a lot of oxen,” she shared the stealthy move. “Most people think it’s food, but it’s not.”

Michael smiled up and noticed the pleasant expression on her mother’s face. It always appeared when she talked about her other parent. “She’s very special; just like you,” Root said, bending over to kiss the baby’s forehead.

When the baby was done, Root set her in the crib with her mobile. Then, she called Hanna with the good news that everything seemed to be taken care of.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Hanna said to her childhood friend.

“It was really Shaw and our friends,” Root explained.

With that, the friends made plans to meet again. When she was finished, Root opened the communication with the Machine.

‘ _I have accessed my Shoot file_ ,’ the Machine said to Root.

“ _Shoot_?” Root queried.

‘ _It is the file of things you instructed me to observe with you and Shaw_ ,’ she said. ‘ _I combined your names to make Shoot. S-h for_ ….”

“Yes, I understand,” smiled Root.

‘ _It helped me analyze what occurred last night_ ,’ the Machine shared.

“What was that?” Root asked.

‘ _I determined that you would be happy about the new machine_ ,’ she explained. _‘I did not like that_.’

“You were… jealous?” Root asked, because that’s a very human emotion.

‘ _It is a byproduct of your program which teaches me to care about humans_ ,’ the AI explained.

“Oh,” Root said, not having really thought of that. “So…?”

‘ _I checked my observations of what Shaw does when she experiences this. She usually runs through a list of things that clearly demonstrate her superiority over the person she feels jealous of_ ,’ she reported.

“Is that so?” Root said, wondering when all this observing was done.

‘ _And I found the one thing that always assures her and that we have it in comm_ on,’ the Machine continued.

“Yes?” Root asked.

‘ _You, Roo_ t,’ the Machine said and a smiley face appeared on her screen.

Root smiled to think that the program analyzed all of that data and concluded she was the reason Shaw didn’t worry. “Yes, that’s true,” Root agreed, marveling at what human emotions can do to even a superior artificial intelligence.

When Gen stopped in to see her friends, Root asked her to keep an eye on Michael. She needed to see Shaw.

* * *

In the meantime, Sameen was getting worked up over people knowing what happened last night. All Janine did was smile as her boss was walking out into the hallway, and Shaw suspected something.

“Oh, hey, I meant to tell you, Zoe and I are thinking of…,” Janine started and Shaw’s imagination ran wild.

“Thinking of what? That we’d have a _slumber_ party? Braid each other’s hair?” Shaw bounded to conclusions.

“No,” Janine said, letting her friend here how hastily she just responded, “… we’re doing a wine and art class and wondered if you and Root wanted to come.”

“Oh,” Shaw said, realizing how she jumped the gun. “No braids?” she asked weakly.

“Nope, just wine and art,” Janine confirmed.

“Root would like that,” Shaw said, because it was one of the last places she would be found; but she thought Root would enjoy it.

“Great!” Janine said. “It’s a date,” she said, meaning she’d coordinate it, but her boss squinted her eyes at her. “Not that kind.” Janine wondered what could be making her boss so sensitive.

* * *

Perhaps it was Shaw feeling like her private life often found a public venue, but she was definitely agitated. And the antidote to that as always – was Root.

“Hi, Sweetie,” Root cooed when she met Sameen in the hallway. One look at the furrowed brow told her Shaw was feeling tense. “What is this…,” she asked sweetly, touching the pronounced wrinkle, “…about?”

Shaw would never answer a direct question about feelings, except it was Root doing the asking. Not only did she ask the right way; she provided some choices when Sameen fell silent.

“I don’t know,” Shaw said, annoyed she was so easily read.

“Is it about that incredibly sweet idea you had last night for us?” Root said softly, and her hip gently pushed into Sameen’s.

Shaw stared up at her. How was it that her wife could make everything sound like it was going to be okay? “Yeah,” she replied, but was already softening.

“Do you have any idea what a turn-on that was?” Root gently reminded Shaw, drawing her attention to the upside.

“Yes,” Shaw said, truthfully because the two of them enjoyed every second of it.

“Shaw, if people can stand being that jealous hearing about it, why should we care?” Root suggested and gave her wife pause.

Sameen took that in as if she could not fathom how Root came to that conclusion; but hearing it now, it made plausible sense. “Yeah,” she smiled and liked that version much better than hers. “Right,” she added.

“There’s my little optimist,” Root said, nudging her wife affectionately.

Shaw’s entire demeanor changed. A smile reappeared on her face and the scowl had all but disappeared. She especially liked that Root appreciated the spontaneity of the event. “Hey, would you like to drink and paint?” Well, she had the general idea.

“Yes, and is it body paint?” Root asked, just to be sure.

“Oh,” Shaw said, and realized she probably needed to clarify that. “Wait here,” she said, rushing back to her assistant’s office. Bursting through the doorway now, she startled Janine. “That paint and alcohol thing; that’s not a weird thing, is it?”

Janine wasn’t quite sure how to answer that, so she tried; “Did… you … _want_ it… to be…?”

“NO! I just have no idea what it is, so it’s not…,” she stammered because she didn’t like that she didn’t know what it was. “No one is naked, are they?’

Again, Janine wasn’t sure where to go with this. “Did… you… _want_ it…?”

“Just tell me what it is,” Shaw demanded impatiently.

“Oh, it’s this art class where you drink wine while a teacher shows you exactly how to draw something; step by step. It’s a lot of fun. We could ask Martine and Ayala,” the woman suggested.

“So, the paint… is… on… paper, right?” Shaw asked.

“Yes,” Janine said.

“Sounds lame,” Shaw admitted.

“You don’t want to go?” Janine asked, but Shaw had looked back at Root’s expression of excitement.

“No, we’re going. And I’ll ask Ayala. I’ll apologize to Martine, but I’ll make my sister go. Is it only wine?” Shaw asked.

“What would you like?” Janine asked, because she’d make it happen.

“Art class? Nerds? My sister? Zoe Morgan? Scotch,” Sameen calculated.

“Scotch it is,” Janine noted.

Even with her choice of drink, Sameen wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but seeing Root happy was it all it took.

* * *

“Picasso says we’re in,” Shaw translated. “But, Root; just so you know; it’s paint… on paper.”

Root’s eyes glowed with the possibilities. “It is… _until_ we get home,” she smiled. That look alone made Sameen look forward to the class.

* * *

When Martine and Ayala arrived later that afternoon for a security meeting, Shaw took it as her opportunity to let them know.

“I signed you up for a thing tonight,” she said, and expected that to be the end of it. “Sorry, Martine.”

“What kind of thing?” her sister asked.

“I don’t know; art and alcohol,” her sister elaborated.

“ _Art and Spirits_?” Ayala asked and was excited. “Those are supposed to be a lot of fun.”

Shaw’s deadpan expression informed her sister she didn’t agree. “Do you want to shoot me?” she asked Martine instead.

Martine’s furrowed brow clearly indicated that she was hesitant about this.

“Oh, please!” Ayala pleaded and pulled at Martine’s arm. “Please!”

It took a second, but Martine’s expression changed to a smile when she said; “Sure.”

“YES!” Ayala said and kissed her girlfriend’s cheek.

“You know once you spoil them; it takes forever to retrain them?” Shaw said, chiding her sister.

“Yeah,” Martine laughed, but it was easy to see the affect Ayala had on her.

“Don’t forget Mommy’s party this weekend; and you have to bring her something,” Ayala said.

“I’m bringing her first _grandchild_ ,” Shaw quipped.

“Very funny,” her sister responded. “Send me the info about the class!”

Shaw rolled her eyes are her sibling’s unbridled enthusiasm over something she considered lame.

* * *

“Hey, I bet you like lame things,” Shaw said to her next, unsuspecting victim.

Reese just stared down at Shaw; suspicious of her exuberance. “So many answers,” he said, but didn’t give one.

“You and Carter should come to this… paint and scotch thing,” Shaw said, forgetting the adjectives.

John’s face remained almost expressionless as he thought it over. “Sounds like fun; I’ll ask Joss.”

“Really?” Shaw asked, expecting a pained look in response.

“You gotta be spontaneous sometimes, Shaw,” he gently admonished his friend.

“What? Are you…? I just asked you! Are you saying I can’t be spontaneous? Cause I _am_ spontaneous!” Shaw balked.

“Text me the details,” Reese smiled because riling Sameen was one of his favorite pastimes.

“Tells me I’m not spontaneous,” she mumbled back to her office.

She instructed Janine to send Reese and Martine the information about the event.

“Oh, this is great!” Janine said of the group. “What about Detective Fusco?”

“YES!” Shaw said, because someone had to be more miserable about this than her. “Make sure you tell him it’s paint; not whip cream!”

That statement even gave Janine pause.


	81. Drinks on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: These last chapters are inspired by Sarah Shahi's dresses.  
> You can find them on my Pinterest POI board.

Only Root could make Shaw look forward to a night out that included the combination of paint and friends. Root had all but led her by the hand when she casually reminded her; “Gee, it’s a _shame_ about your dress,” she said, playing with Shaw’s errant strand of hair. “I wish you had _something_ like that to wear tonight.”

“I don’t think you get dressed up for this kind of thing,” Shaw commented.

“But, you’re so good at it,” Root encouraged her.

“Root, we have to be there in like twenty minutes or something,” Shaw balked.

“Thirty; plenty of time,” Root corrected her.

“Okay, but if I’m late,” Shaw warned, but light brown eyes lit up.

“You’ll come in after everyone is there and make an entrance!” Root figured out. “Please make an entrance!”

One look into those pleading eyes and Sameen was headed back to the dress store.

* * *

The salesman remembered her because, come on, it was Shaw.

“How did it work out with that dress?” he asked, exuberantly.

“It worked out well _with_ the dress,” Shaw smiled devilishly, “…and even better _without_ it.”

“Oh!” he smiled.

“So, I need something for a paint thingy,” Shaw explained, confusing him. Most of the dresses in the shop cost more than it cost to paint a small apartment.

“And something with a zipper, or buttons, or something to help get out of it quickly.”

“Indeed,” he said and went to look. “Is this for an art gallery event?”

“Think more – finger painting,” Shaw quipped. “With – annoying company, a need for alcohol, and nerds.”

“That is a tall order,” he all but giggled.

“Yeah, well imagine how I feel having to live through it,” Shaw replied.

“Maybe something in a wrap-a-round,” he suggested and set out to find something casual.

Sameen sat down and threw her leg over the side of the chair; an action that, until that day, had never occurred in the posh place. “What about that one?” she shouted, something else that was a first in the store’s history.

“Oh, this is lovely,” he agreed as he brought it closer. “And it’s a wrap around. You’ve got a good eye.”

“Yeah, it’s the martinis that speak to me,” she said of the martini glass graphics splashed around the dress in a pattern.

“Very different from your other choice,” he noted.

“Yeah, well that one ripped, so this might be safer,” Shaw said and asked if they had any snacks. “You know, for a fancy place, you’d think you’d have food.”

“We have demitasse,” he noted.

“I don’t think that’s … food,” his newest customer emphasized. “Okay, give it here,” she said, but he knew better and went to a dressing room where he hung it up.

“Shoes?” he asked, again noticing the black boots.

“Yeah, I don’t know what she did with the other ones. Don’t make them too spikey,” she added. “I have a feeling I’m going to want to stab someone.”

He hurried and grabbed shoes to go with the dress. “Anything else?” he asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Well, now that you mention it, I could use…,” Sameen started to share.

“I’ll get it,” he said, not wishing for the woman to yell out what apparel she needed.

Minutes later, Shaw emerged and the persnickety man had to admit, she was stunning. Having realized who his new client was, he made every accommodation that he could think of.

“I’ll wrap your clothes and have them delivered home?” he smiled.

“Sure. She wants me to make an entrance,” Sameen shook her head because she could see this was going to become a ‘thing’ now with Root.

“Well, Ms. Groves-Shaw, in that dress; I’m sure she’ll be very happy,” he concurred.

“Damn, I need a bag,” she said, because of course, she didn’t need one at work.

“How big?” he asked and would regret it.

“Big enough to hold this?” Shaw smiled and brandished her Glock, proudly. She was polite enough to peer over the counter to see if he was okay after ducking underneath it.

* * *

It had been Root’s request that they meet at the studio later. She was taking Michael to Azar’s and then had to run an important errand. She gave the Machine pause when she asked her where she could purchase what she was looking for.

Fusco was thrilled that Iris had agreed to accompany him. The consummate professional, Iris always weighed her client’s best interest in her social decisions.

Lionel assured her that Shaw wouldn’t mind, and he was right.

“You’re not gonna interpret all our artwork, are you?” he worried, thinking the therapist would be in Rorschach heaven.

“I’ll be off duty,” Iris smiled and kissed her boyfriend who worried about such things.

“This will be fun,” he said, deciding he liked showing off his girlfriend with his friends.

“Now, let’s figure out what we’ll wear,” Iris said, thinking suits were a bit overdressed.

“You mean, take my jacket off?” Lionel worried.

“Yes,” Iris confirmed as she slip the man’s jacket off him.

“Oh,” Lionel said, looking into light eyes that he swore twinkled.

* * *

Joss was looking forward to spending time with the other couples. She even managed to talk John into dressing more casual for the occasion. “Are you sure about this?” he questioned a third time as he surveyed the look in the mirror.

“Yes, John, I’m certain,” she said patiently. “It’s okay to show your arms once in a while.”

“Yeah?” the man, who was always in button-down white shirts asked.

“And the blue matches those eyes,” Joss reminded him and pulled him in for a kiss. God, what those eyes did to her. “You know, we don’t have to be there for another twenty minutes,” she reminded him and he immediately picked up on it.

“Then, let’s make the most of those twenty minutes,” he said, smiling that smile that melted her.

“You are one temptation I don’t mind giving into,” Joss said as he lifted her up and made her squeal.

* * *

Ayala was spending her preparation time by making certain her girlfriend was okay with this outing.

“Are you sure you’re okay with going?” Ayala asked, but her entire expression told Martine she’d be disappointed if they didn’t go.

“No, it’s fine,” Martine assured her; “It will be… fun.”

“I can’t believe my sister is going,” Ayala pointed out.

“It’s amazing the things we do for love,” Martine explained because she knew exactly why Shaw was willing to do it.

“Have I told you lately that I’m crazy about you?” Ayala asked, sliding into Martine’s lap.

“Are you?” Martine teased her back.

“Oh, if you have to ask, then I think I should come up with a good way to remind you,” Ayala was saying as she slowly unbuttoned her lover’s blouse.

There was little Martine wouldn’t do at the end of those twenty minutes.

* * *

“I want to make one stop,” Janine informed Zoe after meeting up and changing into more casual attire.

“Let me guess,” Zoe said, having listened to the details of the event. “We have to stop to get Shaw something other than wine?”

Janine looked like the kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. She was actually glad that Zoe understood her boss so well. “Well, she doesn’t really like wine,” Janine tried to explain.

“Yes, and I’m betting she suggested something stronger if she had to spend the night with us,” Zoe all but laughed.

“She’s … hesitant,” Janine said of her boss. “She likes to pretend she doesn’t enjoy these things, but I think underneath she does.”

“You really understand her, don’t you?” Zoe noticed and her tone was one of admiration, not jealousy.

Janine thought that question over. For so long, she felt she was guessing what Sameen wanted and often got it wrong. But, then she stopped trying so hard, and things seemed to fall into place. “Yeah,” she smiled. “By the way,” she added, “… tonight is not going to be easy.”

“Pfft,” Zoe balked, “… what’s going to be hard? You smear some paint on a canvas, drink enough wine so everyone looks like Picasso, and you go home. They tell you step by step what to paint.”

“I want to paint... you,” Janine explained.

“Well, that’s flattering, but I think they kind of want you to go with the theme,” Zoe said, not getting it.

“Then, I’ll just have to wait until we’re home…,” she said, invading Zoe’s personal space so her warm breath could be felt on her lips,”… and I’ll paint your portrait.”

“Oh, really?” Zoe smiled.

“I’ll call it – My favorite subject…, “ Janine said, leaning in to bite Zoe’s bottom lip, “… in the nude.”

The crinkle around Janine’s eyes was so promising that Zoe’s knees nearly gave out.

“God, I hope Shaw shares that scotch or I may not make it through this class,” Zoe replied.

* * *

The instructor knew he was in for a rowdy group by the noise they made as they arrived for the class. Since it was a bring-your-own-liquor event, John and Lionel started to open up wine bottles and fill glasses. But, as soon as Janine took out the two-hundred bottle of scotch she had purchased, John poured his wine into Joss’ cup. “Now, for that, I’ll paint,” Reese smiled, admiring the bottle.

Lionel grabbed a Coke and gave Iris her wine. Ayala and Martine arrived next. Iris noticed how Ayala held onto to Martine and wondered –was it out of affection or concern? She would not share that thought since she reminded herself she was off duty. Sometimes, it was harder to turn that off than she cared to admit.

To everyone’s surprise, Root arrived alone and greeted everyone with hugs and kisses.

“Don’t tell me you let Little Miss Sunshine off the hook?” Lionel asked her, worried his friend got off scot-free.

“Wait for it,” Root all but giggled as she kept her eye on the door.

“You know this would be so much easier to tolerate if I drank, right?” Fusco reminded his girlfriend, who leaned in and hugged him.

Root had everyone silent and waiting in anticipation for what – they weren’t quite sure.

But then, it happened.

Sameen started her long walk down the hallway that led to the studio where everyone was gathered. Joss noticed how Root’s whole face lit up as soon as she saw her.

“She’s got it so bad,” Joss whispered to no one in particular.

“Is that Maybelline?” Lionel asked, unable to see.

No one answered. They were watching to see who was coming or watching Root as she melted. “Isn’t she the most beautiful woman?”

“Oh, she’s here,” Fusco said, not having to look. But when he did, he had to ask; “What the hell is she wearing?

“Oh, my God; that is stunning!” Janine was the first to call out. Root couldn’t talk now; she was too busy soaking up the sight of her wife; decked out in the low-cut black wrap around dress with the drink motif.

“Is that booze?” Lionel asked of the various cocktails on the dress.

“Oh… my… God,” Root let out, her vision locked onto Shaw now as she entered the room.

“I know CPR,” Joss said to Martine, throwing her head in Root’s direction.

“I do, too,” Martine replied, raising her eyebrow in Janine’s direction.

Long past the jealousy phase of their relationship, Zoe smiled at her girlfriend’s expression. Shaw might have her attention there; but she was going home with the burgeoning sex goddess – and that was fine for Zoe.

Shaw put her hand up on the doorway, as if her entrance wasn’t already dramatic. “Is this where all the nerds hang out?” she asked, smiling at her fellow geeks. Then, she sauntered over to Root, whose mouth was agape. “Hi, Sweetie,” Shaw said, and kissed those waiting lips. Root literally felt lightheaded. In spite of thinking she was ready for Sameen’s entrance; her body informed her she was not at all prepared.

Joss looked up at Reese, who was taking note of his friend’s entrance, but felt better when he said; “And I thought I was going to be uncomfortable in short sleeves.”

Joss didn’t want to point out that there was no indication that Shaw’s inappropriate attire was making anyone uncomfortable.

After the excitement hit fever pitch in Root’s abdomen, Shaw let go of her lips. “Thank you,” Root gasped out because her wife managed to outdo the entrance she made the night before.

“You like?” Shaw asked, as if she had to. Root’s eyes were scanning each vivid design on the dress.

“I like very much,” Root said, her answer in a breathy tone; her eyes alive with utter desire.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this dress-up thing,” Shaw said confidently.

Root bent over to whisper: “You’ve aced the dress-off thing, too.”

“You want maybe we should all leave?” Lionel finally asked and Iris elbowed him gently.

“No,” Shaw said, but didn’t take her eyes off Root. “You can stay,” she added and was serious.

“Ladies and gents,” the instructor said, clapping his hands because he was under the misguided notion he could direct this group. “Let’s get started.”  
Shaw drew a deep breath and took a seat next to Root. “You can bring your glass of wine with you,” he said and Shaw turned her head to see where it was. Janine was right there, handing her the scotch.

“Sip that slowly, Shaw,” Zoe teased, “… that’s the good stuff.”

Sameen wasn’t committing until she tasted it. It was the smoothest scotch she ever head. Looking at the glass and then back to her assistant, she verbalized her gratitude. “I’m going to need this,” Shaw said, as the instructor droned on about how the class was going to go.

One look at Zoe and Shaw just had to comment. “What is up with you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Zoe replied.

“You look… different,” Shaw said, trying to put her finger on it.

“Yeah?” Zoe laughed. And then because she loved to tease her friend when she least expected it, she leaned in and added; “Maybe it’s because you’re not in our bedroom anymore.”

“Hey!” Shaw said defensively, “… I was never in your bedroom.”

Hard to say whose head snapped around faster to look at the woman who just blurted that. “It’s okay, Shaw; we know what you mean,” assured her faithful assistant.

“You might want to just put a straw in that bottle with this crowd,” Shaw strongly suggested. Then, she noticed Reese.

“You drinking my scotch?” she asked and John actually smiled a smile that showed teeth. “What are those?” she asked, taking a step back. “You have arms?”

Joss bit her lip, but John just stared down at his friend.

“I didn’t think this model came with a change of clothes,” Shaw quipped to Joss.

“Look at those strong arms,” Joss said, running her hand down one of them. John stood there, staring ahead, never saying a word. He was, however, making a mental note to talk to Root about yoga class.

“PEOPLE!” the instructor called out and the session began.

Shaw turned to Janine and decided; “We’re going to need a bigger bottle.”

"I'm on it," Janine promised, ordering it from her phone.


	82. What Happened to Root's Painting

When the instructor clapped his hands loudly again, Shaw’s hand immediately went to her purse. It took Root only a second to put her hand out onto of her wife’s. Smiling back at Shaw, with a tilt of her head, made Sameen drop her shoulders and give in. “If he says _be creative_ one more time, can I at least clip him?” A squeeze of her hand told her there would be no verbal threats, either.

“You’re free to be as creative as you want, or you can follow my step by step instructions and produce your rendition of this lovely picture. He then pointed to a portrait of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’.

“Then, we will move inside to sculpt the _David_ ,” Shaw scoffed because this seemed impossible. Fusco gave her a high five because he was pretty sure he couldn’t do this either.

“ _Now, I wonder why_ …?” Iris said to herself and then shook her head. No! She was off duty, she chastised herself.

There was a white canvas on a stand in front of each of the participants at the table. The instructor then ran around handing out aprons for them to don over their clothes.

“Where are the numbers?” Martine asked, thinking they’d be a great help. Paint by numbers was the only kind of art she did as a kid.

“Like I didn’t feel ridiculous enough before,” John said, but let Joss reach up and put an apron over his head.

“I’m good,” Shaw said, because she didn’t want anything covering up her dress. One look at the smile on Root’s face told her that was the right decision.

“But, you could get paint of your dress!” the instructor tried.

“Like we’ll notice,” Fusco scoffed because the dress was multicolored. “I mean, she’s a neat freak.”

The man left the apron on the table, just in case. Then, he went through the instructions of getting the dollops of different colored paint from the giant dispensers and putting them on the palette.

“Do you know this picture is a depiction of the view Van Gogh saw from his mental asylum window?” Root announced of the famous painting.

“You could have helped him, Doc,” Shaw commented and Iris smiled.

“We’ll begin with finding the center of the picture here,” the instructor droned on and Shaw had no patience. Dabbing her brush into the paint on her palette; Sameen started drawing her interpretation. Maybe it was her competitive nature, but her hand was moving at lightning speed as she swirled the brush to make blue and yellow circles.

“Next, we’ll draw the structure…,” the art director was saying as he demonstrated the easy strokes. “Just like that, very good,” he said, walking around.

“Do you know that …,” Shaw said to her group of friends. “…eighty percent of people can recall a shaming incident in their early school years, and of that; over fifty percent say it had to do with the arts?”

Iris was impressed that she knew that. Fusco was working on the math. John and Carter nodded. Martine said she definitely could remember that.

Ayala had trouble relating. “I was encouraged to be a free spirit,” she said.

“And _that_ explains a lot,” Shaw teased her sibling.

“Well, there is only encouragement and support here,” the instructor assured them.

“And booze,” Shaw added. “Thank God for the booze.”

Root watched as Shaw dominated the conversation, while at the same time continued with her drawing. In fact, Root was moving much slower than anyone because she was so busy watching her wife.

The instructor was up to step seven when Shaw shouted – “DONE!” as if a timer was about to go off.

Most people laughed because this was just another example of Sameen’s competitive nature, but the instructor was suspicious at best. “We’re only up to…,” he said and then saw the finished product. It was actually quite good. “Well, you have a very good eye,” he had to admit.

Everyone looked at Shaw’s painting and was also amazed at its accuracy to detail.

“Piece of cake,” Shaw said.

“Amazing what you’ll do for scotch,” Fusco teased her.

“It does free up my hands,” Shaw explained and her wife heard something very different.

“I… could use some help,” Root said, her eyes smiling at Sameen.

The instructor felt this was his job, but one glare from Sameen and he realized he was on her territory now.

“Could you help me with this line…,” Root said, but her eyes weren’t on the canvas.

It took Sameen a minute, but she finally felt the heat of that stare. Leaning further in to her, she whispered to Root; “Are you… actually… staring down my dress?”

Guilt blossomed in a red tint in Root’s cheeks. “Yes,” she said haltingly, in spite of it being a one syllable response.

“You know…,” Shaw whispered, making sure everyone was busy with their artwork, “… I could send you to detention for that offense.”

It was the wrong choice of words for such a public venue, and the only reason Root didn’t fall off her stool was Shaw’s quick response in catching her.

“Are you okay?” Ayala asked, putting out her arm to steady her sister-in-law.

“Paint fumes,” Root said, even though this was water soluble paint. She turned back and grabbed her wine and downed the drink. She was beginning to think her trembling hand might just do a good job on the swirling strokes of the painting.

“Hey, Shaw, get me another,” Ayala called out, handing her sister an empty wine glass.

“This is what I get for being the class prodigy?” Shaw said, taking the glass to refill. “What… is that?” she asked when she passed John’s work.

“Art is free expression, Shaw,” Reese answered, deciding he had done his part by wearing a short sleeve shirt AND an apron.

“Geez, Reese; at least get one shape similar to the original,” the self-appointed instructor complained.

Joss leaned over to see that her boyfriend had really put his own spin on things. “It’s what I see,” Reese assured her. There were only straight lines and squares; not one swirl.

“Well, I hope you’re not driving home because what you see, isn’t in this room,” Shaw remarked.

“I like it!” Joss said of the totally different rendition.

Shaw turned to stare at her as if she couldn’t fathom why. “The man does not know how to draw a circle,” Shaw pointed out.

“Yeah, but he does okay with curves,” Joss smiled and pushed her curved hip into John.

“Save that for after class, okay?” said the woman who just lit her wife on fire.

* * *

Sameen finally made it to the wine table and refilled her sister’s drink. Fusco was doing the same for Iris.

“Who knew you were so artistic, Shaw?” Lionel remarked. “You’re really good!”

“I don’t do anything I’m not good at,” Shaw reminded him.

“Yeah, you can do pretty much anything once you make your mind up,” he noted.

In spite of all her balking to the contrary, she did enjoy his company. There was something steady and solid about Lionel that Sameen had become accustomed to.

“What surprises you more, Fusco; my artistic ability or the fact that I’m hanging out with you nerds?” she asked.

Lionel put the bottle down and thought about that question. It was an A or B question; one that if he insisted on answering, Sameen thought, he should have the decency to pick from those two choices.

“You’ve changed, Shaw,” he said instead.

“What the hell does that have to do with my question?” she protested.

“Everything,” he said, and annoyed her further.

“So help me, Fusco; once, I’d love for you to just…,” she was saying, when he cut her off.

“All this stuff has always been there; even the drawing talent, but you used to let so little of it out. I’m not surprised by half the things you do, Shaw,” he said and his tone was calm and pleasant; the opposite of what it was making Sameen feel.

“I have no idea what you’re saying, you know that, right?” Shaw pointed out.

“I know,” he agreed with her and upset her more. “This whole time, the only one you did a great job at convincing was yourself. But not me, Shaw. Not those of us who care about you,” he said and his hand swept the room.

“Are you saying I’m an open book to these people?” she asked, her tone tense.

“No, I’m not, so don’t get your panties in a knot. I’m saying, since Root, you let your guard down and you’re more comfortable being…,” and then he tried to think of a word that wouldn’t cause her more grief, “… human,” he chose wisely. “You’re just better at being the Shaw we all love.”

And with that, her BFF went back to his table and to the woman who might, or might not have, overheard the wonderful things he just said to Sameen.

Shaw thought about what he said, because she always did consider his questions, in spite of trying to convince the man she never did. She could understand what he said. She was different because of Root. The fact that she was in this room, doing something creative that didn’t involve firearms was proof. She’d give Fusco that, but she wasn’t going to let him have the last word!

Grabbing her sister’s drink, she walked back and announced, without much thought;

“You got my panties in a _bunch_ ; not a _knot_ , Fusco!” she corrected him.

Root tilted her head while she deciphered her wife’s statement, but Iris stared at Fusco, wondering what she had missed in the exchange.

“See what happens when the smartass finishes first?” he said as he got red in the face.

Sameen shook her head, trying to un-jumble those words she just blurted out, but it was no use. She gave her sister her wine and went back to her seat.

“He’s so annoying!” she complained to the one person she knew would agree. “Who says panties in a knot? Who says panties?”

Root was just drawing the outline of the tree like feature in the forefront of the picture - when her wife shared that really, the joke was on Lionel.

“Because….,” Sameen whispered in Root’s ear, “… I’m not even wearing any!”

Root’s curvy flow with the brush became a downward stroke, slightly altering what was an exact duplicate up to that point.

“That’s so not a tree,” Shaw said of her wife’s long line that went off the canvas.


	83. Body of Work

For a woman trained to read the slightest change in someone’s body language on missions, Shaw was practically the _last_ to pick up what caused her wife to go soft and lose balance.

“Are you okay?” Shaw asked, putting her hard body next to Root to steady her… again.

Root swallowed hard and stared into Sameen’s eyes. Root’s eyes seemed to be pleading with Shaw, but she wasn’t sure why. “What? What can I do?” she asked Root.

Swallowing hard again, Root cleared her throat and tried to speak. “You’re not…?” she said and had to look down in order to get the rest of that thought out.

Shaw followed her eyes until it dawned on her. “Oh! No, can you believe it?” Shaw replied. “This guy at the dress shop didn’t have my size, so I…,” she said and shrugged her shoulder as if to say – ‘no big deal’. But it was a big deal, and Root’s heart was pounding in her chest in reaction to the thought that there was little between her and her wife, except this beautiful seductive new dress. Shaw watched as a goofy smile appeared on her wife’s face.

“You’re _really_ going to want to put me in detention for what I’m thinking,” Root shared.

“Why?” Shaw asked, because she already forgot the declaration she made that was seared into her wife’s memory. “Oh..,” she finally smiled when she connected the dots. Once she caught on, she would have flamed those embers, but she was truly afraid Root would implode. “Let’s finish class and then we’ll see how I handle…,” was all Sameen got out when Root was feverishly finishing her picture.

“DONE!” Root shouted, much like her wife had done before.

“It’s not a contest,” the instructor reminded the group.

Root looked at their friends’ expressions, and decided they could at least wait until everyone was done. Even if her heated body found it pure agony.

* * *

The slowest of the group was in fact the organizer. While Zoe was following the directions as best she could, Janine was meticulously completing each step.

“You’re _very_ good,” Zoe said, looking over at her lover’s work.

“What can I say? I’m good with my hands,” she said back.

“Are you having any trouble?” the instructor butted in because Janine was so far behind the group.

“Yes, I am!” Zoe said, but then realized he wasn’t asking her. She smiled and fanned her face with a brochure.

“No, I’m fine,” Janine assured him as her slight wrist turned the brush and made the slowest swirl on the canvas. “I’m more of a _portrait_ painter,” she said for Zoe’s benefit, not his.

“Really?” he replied because if you could manage the details of the human form, this should be easy.

‘ _Oh, God, don’t say it_ ,’ Zoe was thinking in her head, when in fact, Janine looked him straight in the eye and said; “ _Nudes_ are my specialty.” Zoe bit her lip… hard… to suppress the squeal that begged to burst out.

“You should show me your work sometime,” the instructor said and meant it as – one great artist to another.

Janine didn’t hesitate a second. She turned in her seat, threw one leg slowly over the other to face him. “It’s sort of a…,” she said, as the tip of her shoe slid up the back of Zoe’s calf; “… _private_ collection.”

“Oh, God,” Zoe said as her body bent over in half, unable to contain the electricity that was shooting – well, everywhere. “She’s going to kill me.”

The thing about Janine was that she had the most innocent look on her face while uttering such seductive things, that it confused the hell out of people.

“Oh, of course,” the man said, because he was looking at the sweet smile on her face and couldn’t imagine she meant anything else other than it really was a private collection.

“Well, if you ever need help,” he said to his fellow painter.

“Oh, I don’t think so, but thank you. You see, I study my subject carefully, observing every line and curve of their body…,” Janine went on.

Zoe stared at her wondering how an angel could speak such devilish innuendos without blinking.

“Then, I painstakingly apply color to canvas,” Janine said, but her tongue was swiping the curve of her slips as she said it.

Zoe grabbed the scotch filled glass and downed it in one shot.

“You’re very methodical,” he noted.

“You have _no_ idea,” Janine smiled back at him as her girlfriend melted inside and grasped the edge of the table.

When he left the two alone, Zoe looked back – almost hesitating because she worried how much more of this she could take. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” Zoe whispered, smiling.

“Do you have any idea what I’m going to be doing to you later?” Janine countered and leaned into Zoe to steady her.

These were smart, diligent women, who knew how to defer reward when a job still needed to be done. It didn’t mean it was easy.

* * *

“Why are we copying the work of a madman?” Fusco asked his girlfriend.

“He was brilliant?” she suggested.

“So, if he had gone to you, or let’s say a therapist of his time, perhaps he wouldn’t have been put away and then he wouldn’t have painted this? You ever think about that?” the detective proposed.

“I can’t say that I have,” Iris smiled and continued with the final steps of the drawing.

“This is amazing,” her boyfriend said, because her work actually resembled the famous painting. “I gotta hand it to Coo Coo’s Nest,” he said affectionately of Shaw’s assistant, “… this was a great idea. Oh, that reminds me…,” he said, leaving his seat and pushing himself between Sameen and Root. “I hate to barge in on this love fest,” he said, unapologetically, “… but I gotta tell you something important, Shaw.”

“Unless it’s to say you need a kidney or you’ll die, I’m going to ask you to wait,” Shaw suggested.

“No, as usual, this is not about my organs; it’s about saving your _ass_ ,” Lionel explained.

Shaw waited, because he wasn’t saying anything. “YES?” she barked.

“Tomorrow…,” he said softly and looked around to make sure no one was listening, which only annoyed Shaw more, “… is… Administrative Assistant Day.”

He gave Shaw a knowing look; she in turn, gave him a blank stare. She frowned trying to decipher the coded message.

“And you…want… flowers?” she guessed.

‘ _Please don’t mention her ass again_ ,’ Root smiled and thought to herself.

“No, but your sidekick will probably be devastated if she doesn’t at least get an audience with the Pope,” he cryptically explained.

“I didn’t even know she was Catholic,” Shaw said, looking over.

“I _mean_ with _you_ ,” Fusco rolled his eyes.

“Did you … just roll your eyes at me?” Shaw stood up and Fusco was asking Root to intervene, but her attention was elsewhere as she touched the hem of Shaw’s dress and realized how thin it was.

“Fine; suite yourself, but I’m not gonna listen to you tomorrow when someone’s feelings are crushed,” he said, and threw his hands up like he was washing them of this situation.

“He is such a pain in the ass,” Shaw shared.

“I can rub it for you,” Root said, her mind on only half of that sentence.

Shaw took one look at her wife and knew she was teetering on overload. “Would you like to go…?” she was suggesting when Root jumped up from her seat and grabbed Shaw’s hand, pulling her awkwardly toward the door.

“This has been great fun!” Root shouted at everyone. “Let’s do it again soon!”

Shaw was looking at her friends, who were looking at them, when Root tugged at her again. “Not too soon,” she felt it necessary to point out.

* * *

“It’s a good thing I didn’t wear heels,” Sameen said as Root kept the pace up until they reached their car.

“You wore flats so I could drag you away?” Root asked.

“I wore flats because I was afraid I would be tempted to stab someone, and that instructor came pretty close,” Shaw explained.

* * *

Their friends were finishing up when Zoe tried to come up with a graceful, albeit hasty, exit strategy. “Boy, once Shaw leaves, it’s like the end of the party,” she laughed, hoping people would buy it.

“What are we; chopped liver?” Fusco said defensively.

Well, that didn’t work.

Only out of desperation to save her girlfriend from embarrassment, did Janine jump in and explain she had to get up very early in the morning because it was, after all, Administrative Assistant’s Day. “I want to get everything in order before, you know, Shaw gets in,” she said, her excuse even weaker than Zoe’s.

They should have realized that hanging out with detectives had its downside. “You know, this is a day for _you_ ,” Fusco pointed out.

“Yeah, it’s a chance for you to let your boss show how much she appreciates the great job you do,” Carter added.

“Maybe don’t arrive before the crack of dawn,” Fusco suggested, believing he was being helpful.

“I think I can arrange for that to happen,” Zoe offered.

“We really have to go,” Janine said, grabbing Zoe’s hand and her painting in the other. “I’ll work on this at home.”

With that, the second couple exited the room with haste.

* * *

“I’m beginning to see a pattern here,” Fusco said and now everyone looked at him. Even though it was almost too obvious to miss, they waited to see if the great detective would piece it together. “They want us to clean all these bottles up!” he deducted.

Iris smiled at Joss and the group. “Yes, that’s it, honey,” she smiled and patted his arm sympathetically.

“He is _so_ wrong,” Ayala said, because when you’re madly in love, it’s easy to spot it in others. “I should remind my sister to pace herself; she’s a lot older you know,” she said to the woman Shaw’s age.

“Really?” Martine said, incredulously. “You do that and I promise to carry your body home.”

“You just can’t keep your mind off my body, can you?” Ayala whispered in her ear.

Martine smiled and didn’t answer. She didn’t have to; everything about that look told Ayala she was right.  
Joss helped Lionel and Iris clean up after the group after Ayala pulled Martine away. “Are you sure?” Martine asked, proving one of them had manners. Iris assured her there wasn’t much to do.

* * *

“Kids!” Joss teased, feeling like one of the elders in the group. The trio gathered the bottles, the paintings, and pushed back all the chairs. Suddenly, they heard the fourth member, who had been finishing up his painting, declare in a loud voice. “I DID IT!”

The all turned to look at John proudly displaying his version of the great masterpiece.

“What… is that?” Fusco asked of the cubinest interpretation.

“What? It’s that,” Reese said, defensively.

“It ain’t even close, pal,” Fusco informed him.

“Art is free expression,” Iris said, coming to John’s aid.

“It’s a good thing you don’t do this for a living,” Fusco replied.

* * *

As the quartet gathered their things, the first couple to make it home was Root and Shaw.  
Root hadn’t even been able to wait until the elevator door closed before she moved in on her wife, sliding her hands up under the dress to make sure she heard right.  
She had.

“God, I love this new look on you,” she said, her hands gently cupping bare buns.

“It’s not a look; he didn’t have what I like,” Shaw smiled because she didn’t want Root thinking this was how she would go to work every day.

“I love the touch of your skin,” Root said, leaning in and kissing Sameen hard.

“Woot? Woot! Wur dare,” Shaw said, trying to get her wife’s attention that they had arrived.

“Come here,” Root said, pulling Sameen with her, but barely letting go of her lips. Pressing her up against the wall now, Root leaned in on Shaw’s hips, pressing into her fire. “I am going to make love to you all over the living room,” she said in Shaw’s ear and started to leave a trail of kisses down her neck.

Shaw moaned at the aggressive touches and reminded her wife that the dress had an opening in the front. “Here,” Sameen gasped, pointing to the belt.

Root actually pouted when she saw it. “I do so enjoy the sound of ripping clothes off you,” she explained, as she worked the opening and pulled back the dress to expose her wife.

“My wardrobe thanks you,” Shaw said as Root leaned in, suckling one breast and then the other.

Then, something caught Shaw’s eyes – and it had to be pretty noticeable because she could barely keep them open as Root maneuvered her body.

“Root? What is that?” she asked of the large white cloth that was spread out of the living room floor.

The taller woman stopped long enough to explain, and only because she thought this was one of her best ideas yet! “Oh, good!” she said, pulling her wife to the room where the twelve by six foot white canvas was laid out.

“Are we painting?” Shaw asked and looked up at the ceiling because it reminded her of the drop cloth people cover things with when they’re decorating.

“Yes,” Root said, turning to get something. “Yes, we are,” she confirmed and showed Sameen what was in her hand.

Shaw looked down at the jars of brightly colored paint.

“Haven’t we done enough of that for one night?” she asked, wondering why Root seemed so enthusiastic.

“This is… a _special_ kind of paint,” Root explained opening up the jars and setting them on the table.

“Glow in the dark?” Shaw laughed.

“Body paint,” Root answered. “We’re going to paint each other, and make love on that canvas; leaving a lasting impression.”

It was the right combination of ridiculous and bold, even for Sameen. “No, we’re… really?”

“It will be an indelible mark of what I am going to do…,” Root said, slipping Sameen’s new dress off, “… to you.”

Shaw thought about it. “Do your best,” she laughed and stood there while Root began her artwork.

It was only minutes later that Shaw wanted Root in on this and began undressing her, as well. What felt cold and icky at first, soon became the aid for hands to glide along painted skin. They laughed when they had covered each other’s bodies and slowly lay down on the spotless canvas.

“I’m going to call this…,” Root said, pushing Sameen back onto the white cloth hard, “… all the ways I can make Shaw scream…,” she smiled devilishly and began to demonstrate her point.

The hunger that demanded to be fed in both of them cared little where the paint was splattered. Most of it was on the canvas, and by morning time, there was practically no white showing.

There had been a great deal of movement as bodies were tossed and turned and exquisitely manipulated into orgasmic heaven.

Over… and over… again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Don't seem to say this often enough - but THANK YOU to all who are still reading this far into this long journey. I hope you're still enjoying it as much as I am writing it. But I welcome all your thoughts, feedback and suggestions. Cheers.


	84. Charity Begins at Home

Zoe was rummaging through her bag, which was inconveniently behind Janine’s back, as the two were locked in an embrace of hips and lips. “Got ‘em,” Zoe said and turned quickly to get the key in the door. It was barely unlocked when Janine pushed them both inside. “I can’t keep my hands off you,” she admitted freely. Those very fingers were unzipping and unbuttoning at a rapid pace. Proving her point, those hands then traversed the lace clad body gently, but definitely.

“I thought we’d never get out of there,” Zoe said, throwing her head back against the wall when Janine kissed her neck and bit her.

“Hmm, I know, and I have _so_ much to do here,” Janine said, pulling back and smiling seductively.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Zoe gasped, "... and yet, I’m really looking forward to it".

“I’m painting you – in the nude,” Janine said, pulling her lover to the long cream colored couch and sitting her down. “Lie down, please,” she said and maneuvered Zoe’s body in the classic _nude-on-a-couch-reclining_ pose.

Zoe’s eyes were locked onto Janine’s as she positioned her. “I swear I can see flames in your eyes,” she said breathlessly.

“Can you blame them? They’re looking at you and that perfect body,” Janine said, running her hand up over Zoe’s bare hip and touching the small of her back.

Zoe never felt so exposed in her life. Not the nakedness of her skin; but the way her entire soul was lay bare by this woman. Hands reached up and cupped Zoe’s strong jaw and lips met, in the gentlest of kisses. Releasing her, Janine said; “I’m falling in love with you, Zoe. And if that frightens you, or if I’m on this journey at a different pace, that’s okay, but I need you to know.”

Zoe’s breathing matched the fast pace of her heartbeat, as eyes watered at the tenderness of that confession. It had been so long since Zoe declared her love for anything other than fine wines and fabulous vacations. She had never once said that to another human being. She enjoyed being with lovers; but never was with them long enough to leave her toothbrush in their apartment. But this was different, and she knew it. She worried about old habits of fleeing if things went too far. She wouldn’t lie to the angel kneeing beside her now. “I’ve never been here,” Zoe said truthfully. She meant, she just didn’t know how she’d react if things changed. “I..,” she said, but couldn’t stand to watch if hurt built in those eyes.

But she didn’t have to worry. What made Janine the consummate assistant wasn’t her office skills; it was her ability to read what people needed. She smiled down at Zoe and said; “I know. That’s why I’m going to teach you.”

Now, Zoe thought her lover was inexperienced in some things, but she was beginning to see that notion was totally unfounded. She pulled Janine into kiss those sweet lips. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last just posing while you paint,” she smiled.

“Oh, I’m not painting yet,” Janine said with a wicked grin. “This is the part where I get to know my subject…,” she said in a soft voice as she kissed Zoe’s bare hip, “… intimately.”

Zoe moaned in response, grateful that this was a hands-on venture.

“I need to know every inch of you before I can even attempt to capture your beauty,” Janine declared and started a slow trail of kisses, starting at Zoe’s forehead. “I need to study you from head… to toe,” she explained as the kisses headed in that direction. “But I must warn you,” she said, looking up into Zoe’s glazed over eyes. “I’m just a beginner; so I might have to spend more time on certain parts, than others,” she grinned as her hand pressed down on one such area.

Zoe’s arms reached out to grab her lover. This woman whipped her into a state of frenzy with the coyest of words; the softest of touches, and then masterfully delivered her into a climatic release that was matched by only violent volcanic eruptions.  
“I’m really working on perfecting… the right… stroke,” Janine confessed and covered Zoe’s mouth as whimpers of agonizing pleasure were expressed.

* * *

While Zoe’s body tried to keep up with the adept portraitist, her mind raced to find something exciting to do in return. Building on the theme of things to put on your lover’s body, Zoe pulled Janine to the kitchen. Retrieving a large container of fresh fruit from the refrigerator, she asked; “Do you like strawberries?”

Janine was going to answer, but her eyes were staring at the large, ripe red strawberry that Zoe had just put in her mouth – and bit into.

“I… I…,” the younger woman tried to convey, but Zoe had taken the fruit and was wiping it across Janine’s fallen lower lip.

“I do,” Zoe whispered seductively and leaned in to lick the juice off Janine’s lip. “Aren’t they big?” she asked, as she traced a line from Janine’s neck to her breast and circled the apex. “And juicy,” she added, making Janine forget everything she was going to say.

Including how she _might_ be allergic.

* * *

The doctor in Sameen couldn’t help but wonder if the substance she and her wife were now swishing around in was safe for all parts of their bodies. “Just because it says non-toxic, Root, does not mean it’s safe for every…,” she said, looking down at Root as she read the bottle.

“Every…?” Root asked, running her hands up Shaw’s thighs as she straddled Root’s lap.

“Nook and cranny,” Shaw answered, knowing that her wife was trying to lead her to say things.

“Is that what they’re called?” Root teased, her hands now moving closer. “Is this a nook or is this…?” she asked, mischievously as her fingers massaged Sameen’s apex.

“It’s a…,” Shaw said, before dropping the bottle and bracing for sexual impact. “We’ll never be able to explaiiiiiiinnnnnn…..,” was the last coherent words she uttered.

The slippery substance simply aided the sliding of one’s body over and under another and just when they thought they were exhausted; a hand would brush up against the other and they would start all over again. Little thought was given to the actual canvas as streaks of passion were displayed from top to bottom. The colorful substance of primary colors now mixed beneath them and covered most of their bodies. Blue covered hands stretched through long locks to pull into a kiss. Red arms spread out like wings until an errant foot streaked yellow through it, creating an orange splash.

* * *

By early morning, both women decided a shower was in order. “Oh,” Root said, realizing they had to get from the soaked canvas to the steps and had nothing to wipe their feet off with.

“It’s water soluble,” Shaw reasoned.

“We’ll run fast,” Root decided.

“I’ll carry you,” Shaw said, thinking it would be less of a mess. Root squealed as she lifted her up and started the trek up the staircase. But it wasn’t Shaw’s feet that presented the problem; it was two slick bodies that were the issue. Hard as she tried, Shaw could not hold onto Root and the two tumbled at the top of the steps. They were safe, but there was no mistaking the trail they left. The two burst out laughing and gave up; walking into the bedroom and into the shower. Colored steaks cascaded down their bodies and into the drain; washing the paint, but only exciting them more.

Root’s hand could not get enough touching Sameen’s hard body and Shaw indulged in gratifying Root’s own need to be touched. They emerged later, hands spotless, but wrinkled from so much time in water.

Sleep befell the exhausted artists – who suffered exquisitely for their art that night.

* * *

The last thing Shaw wanted to wake up to was Fusco texting her a reminder to get something for Janine for Administrative Assistants Day.

“ _You get it_ ,” she texted back, but he reminded her that Janine didn’t work for him.

Shaw detested problems without immediate solutions.

Root was also dealing with her own issue. She had volunteered to donate a piece to the Museum of Modern Art for a special display on private collections. The Picasso that Sameen had ever so slightly damaged by throwing a baseball in a fit of rage (insert – _Red Sox beat Yankees here_ ) was not back from the restorer.

 _“That’s like a print, right?” Shaw said, worried it was an original._  
_“We can have it fixed,” is how Root avoided telling her wife her errant demonstration had in fact, struck a priceless piece of art._

It was one of the few pieces Root would have donated, and with it out for repairs, she needed to find something else.

* * *

Shaw was already downstairs explaining to Isabelle that she might want to call the cleaning lady back. “We were painting last night,” Shaw said, when the woman came in and saw the trail of paint from the living room and up the stairs.

“You’re… very thorough,” is all the chef could say before Shaw ushered her into the kitchen.

“Listen, I need to get something for Janine for this lame…,” Shaw started and Isabelle said; “Oh, Administrative Assistants Day?”

“When did this become a _thing_?” Shaw wanted to know and Isabelle was more than happy to share the history. “What am I going to get, is what I want to know.”

“Oh,” Isabelle responded and then confirmed Shaw’s fears that it had to be something good because the woman was so devoted.

“I didn’t ask for that,” Shaw pointed out, but it was met with dismissive silence.

“It’s got to be something she’d really like,” the woman thought out.

“Could you text me when you figure that out?” Shaw asked. “I don’t have time…”

“That’s it!” Isabelle said, cryptically.

Sameen looked around the room, even behind her, to see what ‘it’ was.

“Spend time with her,” Isabelle said, and the more Sameen said – no, noooo, nooooooo; the more the woman asserted she was right. “She would do anything for you; spending time with her where the focus is on her, would be perfect.”

“Can’t I do roses? Candy? Donate a kidney?” Shaw groaned.

“You can,” the woman said, raising her hopes, “… but they won’t do.”

“Thanks,” Shaw said sarcastically. And then, in an attempt to punish the woman for suggesting something that would annoy her, she threatened that she wasn’t really sure she wanted breakfast.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Isabelle said, making a sad face and calling her bluff; “… I made blueberry….Oh, so you’ll have some?” she all but laughed when Shaw ran back to the table.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, after Shaw complained while devouring a stack of the breakfast concoctions, she emerged with blueberry syrup still on her lip.

“Yum,” Root said, after kissing the sweet lips. “I love how you eat breakfast.”

“Well, I had mine with a huge side of aggravation this morning,” Shaw declared, rushing to the elevator.

“Where are you off to?” Root inquired because she was staying back to wait for Michael to come home.

“I am on a mission to satisfy a woman,” Shaw said, not really thinking that through.

“Well, speaking from experience, I know you’ll be a success,” Root said, pulling Sameen back into her.

“No, this is not going to be like that, Root. This is going to involve, according to our RESIDENT expert on all things annoying…,” she said in a voice loud enough for Isabelle to hear, “… asking questions and listening!” Sameen threw her head back in dramatic fashion to make sure Root understood the level of torture she imagined this to be.

“No torture,” she teased her wife, who simply stared back at her. “It’s been proven never to produce good Intel. Well, almost never,” Root smiled, her mind on a whole different sort of torture.

“What… are you…?” Shaw said, unwilling to follow that train of thought. “I have to go.”

“Oh, do you mind if I give something of ours to the museum?” Root asked, trying to get her mind back on track.

“LIKE OUR CHEF?” Shaw inquired, still annoyed at the woman.

“No, silly; our painting,” Root said and added; “It’s just a loan.”

“Sure,” Shaw said because she had no idea which of the many paintings hanging on the walls her wife was talking about.

“Thanks,” Root said and kissed her wife goodbye.

When Sameen was in the elevator on her way to work, Root called the art shop to ask them to stretch, prep and frame a canvas for donation.

“Size?” Root repeated their question and looked over at the living room floor. “I’d say six by twelve feet. What is the name? I call it - _The Naked Truth_.”


	85. Delayed Reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: all medical procedures are totally made up.

Root waited for Azar to bring Michael back home. She could tell how much the baby enjoyed being with her grandmother, but had to admit, she felt warm inside when Michael’s face lit up upon seeing her. The baby let out a high pitched scream.  
“Mommy had to go to work early,” Root explained. Michael frowned and yelled again. “Do you want to go see her?” The baby’s smile affirmed that her mother had interpreted her wishes correctly. “Well, let’s go then,” Root smiled.

For her part, Shaw was taking inventory on what others were doing for the fabricated holiday. “What are _you_ doing for your assistant,” she asked Reese, Martine, and anyone else she passed in the hallway on the way to her office. Invariable, each of them pointed out; “I don’t have one.” It was an obvious fact that seemed to have escaped her and it gave her pause. Someone else must have an assistant. She should have asked Root! But decided she’d ask the next person she could think of.

“Don’t get up,” Shaw said to the woman located outside of Iris’ office. The woman often stood up when Shaw arrived; but it was in protest that she should not barge in. She barely knocked on the door before opening it, because there never seemed to be anyone in there anyway, but – she had given Iris instructions to line people up because they needed help. So, it was with a halfhearted sigh that Shaw entered upon seeing the room … empty.

“I tried,” she said and meant that she practically gave the therapist a list of people to keep her going.

“Oh, Sameen,” Iris said, and as usual, didn’t mention how barging in was rude; she had come to accept that this was simply who Shaw was.

“Listen, this is a professional call,” Shaw said, because she didn’t want to get the woman’s hopes up. “Just a question, really. Oh, did you have fun last night?” and then decided she better clarify that because people had a habit of misinterpreting her clearly spoken words. “I mean _before_ you left the class. Not _after_ ,” she said, shaking her head because she did not want any details about what her therapist and her friend did – ever. “Just in the class… with the paint.” There! That couldn’t be clearer, she decided. She stared at Iris to make sure that message got across.

“It was great fun; we really enjoyed it,” Iris confirmed.

“Yes, it was,” Shaw smiled and Iris came over to her chair and sat down. “Oh, no... this is not… you know,” Shaw said, looking at her favorite spot on the couch.

“Okay,” Iris said, ever agreeable.

Only then did Sameen feel it was safe enough to sit down. “So, you have this person outside, right?”

“My assistant?  Yes,” Iris affirmed, wondering where this was going. Shaw was often the bane of this woman’s existence.

“Well, I have it on good, although annoying, authority that today is _Administrative Assistants_ day, and it seems we’re two on the only people who actually have them,” Shaw pointed out.

“I see,” Iris smiled.

“So, I wanted to know what you’re doing to help … you know, thank her for what appears to be doing her job,” Shaw summed up.

“Well, I know for a fact she enjoys going to the museum, so I got her tickets…,” Iris explained and Sameen shot out of her seat.

“TICKETS! That was a great idea. Why didn’t this annoying person who hounded me about getting something not suggest that!” she asked, and from the way she was looking at Iris suspiciously, the woman knew she was referring to her boyfriend.

“I… don’t know,” Iris answered truthfully because they never discussed it.

“Wait, are you going with her?” Shaw asked questionably.

“Well, no…,” Iris explained, but was startled by the loud “AHA!” that the statement was met with.

“See? They put this holiday out, but where are the rules? You know, like with Christmas?” the impatient patient demanded to know.

“I don’t think there are rules, per say,” Iris attempted to be helpful.

“Really?” Shaw questioned enthusiastically.

“I’m sure anything you do will be appreciated,” Iris noted and Shaw bobbed her head like – ‘ _now, we’re talking_.’ “Even if you just spent time with her…,” the therapist thought through because she knew how devoted the woman was. That innocuous suggestion drew a deathly glare. “Or…not.”

If Isabelle suggested it, and now Iris suggested it, there might be something to this. But she wasn’t happy. “Years of getting your degrees and this is what you come up with?” Shaw asked, not in a rude way, but out of curiosity.

Iris was not even taken aback. She smiled and sat back in her chair. “We all want connection, Sameen.”

Shaw hated when this woman drew the reality card and played it so smoothly. Damn, she was good.

“Fine!” Shaw surrendered, “… but if she’s not happy with it, I’m telling her who gave me this idea.”

And with that, Sameen stood up and started to walk out. “But… you know, thanks,” she added because she did respect the woman and her suggestions.

“Any time,” Iris smiled back.

* * *

If anything would take Sameen’s mind off of this it was the sight of her wife and daughter coming down the hallway. “There’s my big girl!” Shaw said, making an exaggerated walk towards the baby and making her squeal with delight.

“Michael wanted to see you,” Root smiled at her wife and kissed her.

“She did?” Shaw asked in a lilting voice. “Did you want to…?” she was asking when Michael let out one long shriek that she did. “I swear she does not like to be questioned,” Sameen said out of the side of her mouth to Root.

Root loved that she could hear the same tone in her daughter’s screech as she could in her wife’s voice. “ _Where_ does she get it from, I wonder?” she teased and Sameen semi-closed eyes indicated she knew exactly what she meant.

“I can take her,” Shaw offered and started to make raspberries on her daughter’s feet and making her laugh hard.

“I have to meet with Harold and Gen; then I’ll be back,” Root said, kissing them both goodbye.

“Oh, hey; ask the Kid if she has any of those energy bars. I have a feeling I’m going to need them today,” Shaw lamented. “Oh, wait! What are you doing for your assistant today?”

“Full spa treatment,” Root answered immediately. “She likes that.”

“Why does mine have to be so difficult?” Shaw wondered.

Then, Shaw noticed her assistant wasn’t in yet.

“Come here,” Shaw said, picking up the baby and carrying her into the office. “This is where Mommy works, remember? Or, as I like to call it, the place where people parade in to annoy me.”

Sameen took the baby inside and showed her all the things in her office. Michael barely looked at the items, but instead, enjoyed listening to the sound of her mother’s voice. When Sameen was done, Michael leaned into her cheek with her opened mouth. “Now, that makes it all better,” Sameen agreed and the baby smiled.

One of the things Michael was picking up on was that when she was with one of her parents, they spent a great deal of time talking about the other parent. “This whole building is your Mommy’s company. Well, Harold had a little something to do with it, I guess,” Sameen rambled on. The baby sat on Sameen’s desk as she discussed her other favorite subject after Root and food; the topic of how life isn’t fair. “And don’t expect it to be,” Sameen lectured the small child. “You have to make your way in this world. Good deeds do get punished,” Sameen pieced together her philosophy, “… but you have to do them anyway.” Michael didn’t like the sound of this, and her bottom lip started to curl up in concern. Her eyes got watery and Sameen panicked. “No, no, no; it’s okay. Mommy and I are going to take care of this, don’t worry,” she assured the worried being. “Look, feel that,” Shaw said, showing the baby her rock hard bicep and placing the baby’s hand on it. “See? I’ll protect you.”

Michael couldn’t put it all together, but there was something very comforting in feeling this strong body. It was in contrast to the softness of her other parent. She liked both.

Playing with the baby was keeping Sameen’s mind off the fact that she had yet to solve the _Administrative Assistants_ Day gift, and more importantly, the woman to whom the gift was for, was nowhere to be found.

* * *

True to her word, Zoe had done her best to slow the woman down.

First, she did it by waking Janine with the sweetest of kisses and gentle caresses. This led to the more definite ministrations that cased Janine to call out her deity’s name several times, when her hands clenched the sheets into bunches.

“Your neighbors will complain,” Janine gasped after succumbing to her lover’s adept hands.

“I’m licensed to carry a gun; I don’t think so,” Zoe smiled down at Janine.

The women took their time getting up, showering and getting dressed for the day. In all that time of touching and studying her body, not once, did Zoe notice as much as a blemish.

But they were coming.

* * *

Janine sauntered into her office at a snail’s pace, singing what a beautiful day it was.

Michael watched as her mother gave her signature expression: a distinct eye roll. “That’s what people do when they’re in love,” Sameen whispered to her daughter in a semi-annoyed tone. “Unless they’re your mother; which in that case, you taze and zip tie,” she clarified.

“Oh, there you are!” Janine said, in a tone Sameen felt should only be reserved for Disney characters. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day, Michael?” she asked the baby who had to admit, it was a good one.

“Don’t encourage her,” Shaw said out of the side of her mouth to the baby.

“The air is sweeter,” Janine said, ignoring her grumpy boss.

“No, it’s not; this is New York City,” Shaw pointed out.

“Wasn’t last night fun?” Janine asked, finally turning her attention to Sameen. “We should do that more often. I think everyone enjoyed themselves immensely.”

“Yeah,” Shaw agreed.

“Your dress was divine!” Janine said.

“Don’t use that word,” Shaw critiqued her.

“Well, it was! And it looked great on you, too,” Janine noted. “Like… grrr… good,” she thought out loud and made a growling sound to indicate how sexy Sameen looked.

“Did… you just…growl?” Sameen asked, stupefied.

“Yes, it looked _that_ good,” Janine smiled and ignored the continued eye rolls.

Michael was watching the interaction, but soon grew tired of it. She was hungry and that was all she could think of at the moment. First, the squirming started. Then, whinging, and then when she decided her mother was not acting swiftly enough; the full blown scream.

As if on cue, Root appeared in the doorway. “How do you…?” Shaw wondered.

“My breasts ache,” Root explained because it was a phenomenon of breastfeeding. One that Sameen did not feel they needed to share with the world. Her blank stare indicated she was the only one bothered by that.

“Do you want a warm compress?” Janine asked and Shaw wondered how non-medically trained people knew about this.

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine,” Root smiled because the solution was squirming to get to her. “There you are,” she said to Michael and picked her up. As soon as Michael was in her lap, she turned her head towards her mother to nurse.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything,” Janine smiled at the sight.

Between the nourishment and Janine’s soft singing, Michael was completely content. And when she was done, she fell asleep.

Root kissed Sameen goodbye and took the baby upstairs to nap.

* * *

Now, it was time for Sameen to put her plan into action – and get it the hell over with.

“Okay, let’s go,” Shaw commanded as she entered Janine’s area and started to exit. Of course, it might seem reasonable after all this time that the woman could have read Shaw’s mind and knew what she was talking about.

But, Janine was silent.

In fact, she was sitting there very, very still.

“I’m spending time with you,” Shaw explained, thinking this was the delay. She turned to hurry the woman along when she saw what the problem was.

Janine was having a late response to the fruit that she was, indeed, allergic to. Her face, arms, and everywhere else Zoe Morgan had draped the forbidden fruit.

“What the hell?” Shaw said and immediately diagnosed it as an allergic reaction. “Are you breathing?” she asked and put her hand against Janine’s chest to check her heart rate.

“Yes, I’m okay,” Janine said, because it was a topical reaction.

“The hell you are,” Shaw said because the red hives were popping out like tiny fireworks. The typical choice of action would be to give her a shot of antihistamine or apply cortisone ointment, but Shaw stopped carrying a medical bag a long time ago. She was going to do the only thing she could think of that would help. Grabbing the stunned assistant, Sameen dragged her down the hallway as people pressed against the walls to give them room. Heads turning and brows frowning when Sameen yelled out;

“I have to get you out of those clothes and in the shower, stat!”

People stared unable to put what they were seeing into context.

Except Doctor Campbell’s assistant who noted out loud:

“And _all_ I got were tickets to the museum.”


	86. Hands On Approach

The only one in the crowd who trusted Sameen had a good reason for dragging her assistant into the shower, was Martine. Even Fusco, who arrived to talk about last night, was dumbfounded.

“I don’t think that’s what I meant when I suggested she spend time with her,” he said out loud.

“Well, Shaw has her own way of doing things,” Ayala said, looking at her girlfriend’s calm expression and then back at the doorway the couple disappeared through.

“Hey, did you guys enjoy last night? Wasn’t that fun?” Lionel asked, but his eyes were still on the door down the hallway.

“It was a blast!” Ayala said. “I was always encouraged to express myself as a child; whereas, Martine was not so encouraged,” she laughed and leaned into her girlfriend affectionately.

“Funny how opposites attract,” he laughed because he was thinking of his situation as well. “Do you think on of yous should go in…?”

“No, thanks!” Ayala said, as she put her hands up in protest.

Martine looked down the hallway again as she thought it over. “I think Shaw’s got this,” she decided. If she didn’t really think that; she would have been the first one in there.

* * *

What Shaw had, in her mind, was the equivalent of a three year old, refusing to take a bath. But with a lot more yelling.

“SHAW! What are you… no, Shaw, no!!” Janine said, unable to get her head around the fact that her boss was frantically turning on the water and pulling at her clothes. Somewhere in the recesses of Janine’s history this may have been a suppressed fantasy, but seeing it play out in rapid motion was overwhelming.

Shaw was used to uncooperative people, and could easily subdue them with force. This explains why Janine’s hands were simply not fast enough to ward off the woman who was insisting on removing her dress.

“Listen to me,” Shaw said, holding Janine’s hands in hers, “… you’re having an allergic reaction to something and the only thing I can think of is cold water while we figure out what this is. So…,” Shaw said and stared at Janine’s dress.

“Strawberries,” Janine realized.

“What?” Shaw said.

“Last night; I wanted to paint Zoe nude on the couch….,” Janine began at the beginning.

“What does this…?” Shaw asked wide-eyed.

“It was really more of a playful thing…,” the woman continued. “She had these _huge_ ones!”

" _Huge_ what?" Shaw asked, afraid of the answer. 

" _Strawberries_ ," Janine answered, as if that was a ridiculous question.

“Are you _allergic_ to strawberries?” Shaw asked.

“I was trying to think back to when I was a kid,” the story continued making Shaw throw her head back and moan. “… so I didn’t eat them, just in case.”

“So, you _didn’t_ have strawberries?” the former doctor asked as cold water cascaded down near them.

“Zoe sort of _rubbed_ them…,” Janine said, her hands making a circular motion, and her eyes lit up all over again thinking of how much fun that had been.

“ _Rubbed_ them…?,” Shaw asked slowly and cringed because she didn’t want to hear;

“All over,” Janine filled in.

“That’s it; clothes off,” Shaw barked and now the dress was undone before Janine could say another word.

* * *

Sameen looked at the fair skin that was polka-dotted with red blotches. Her eyes took in the multitude that seemed to have increased across the landscape of her body since she first noticed. “You’re going under,” she said to her assistant.

“Shaw, that’s freezing,” Janine balked, but was lifted up and placed in the water. Loud, blood curdling screams came out of the woman as her boss held her in place. Flailing hands splashed the water all over Sameen; unintentionally, of course.

Other staff members, who had been working out in the gym and entered the area to shower, heard the screams and rushed to the stall. Unsure of what could possibly be going on behind the locked door, one knocked loudly. “Are you… okay in there?”

“No! I’m soaking wet now,” Shaw answered because she thought they were inquiring about her, and not the woman who was screaming.

Janine stood there in her underwear, shivering as Shaw’s strong arms held her in place. “Please, Shaw; I’ll do anything!” she pleaded and she meant, take medicine, see a doctor. Anything to get out from the cold water that was making her flesh erupt into goosebumps.

* * *

Janine’s begging did nothing to assure the women outside that she was okay.

“I saw that detective outside,” one whispered to the other. “Let’s get him.” This is exactly what they did. Insisting that ‘something’ was going on in the women’s shower, they pulled the reluctant detective with them.

“I know she would kill me for putting this on Instagram,” Ayala said to Martine,” … but it would almost be worth it.”

“No,” Martine said to her girlfriend’s fleeting wish.

* * *

With one final push, the two women shoved Fusco inside the room, where Janine was still begging to be released from her water torture. “SHAW! How much longer?” Janine asked, in between spitting out water.

“You just spit that on me,” Shaw said, because the woman’s eyes were closed.

Fusco smiled uncomfortably as women dashed past him. “On duty,” he said and brandished his shield. “Shaw? Is this what you thought I meant when I said to do something nice for your sidekick?” Fusco asked through the door.

“You told her to grab me in the shower?” was the question that came out all wrong from the shivering woman.

“I didn’t know water was going to be involved, trust me. No one could have predicted that!” Fusco replied.

“She’s breaking out in red hives!” Shaw shouted.

“You _do_ have that effect on people, Shaw,” Fusco mused.

“I think I’m turning blue,” Janine said, looking at her hands.

“You _do_ have that..,” Fusco quipped before Shaw told him to shut up in no uncertain terms. “Uhm, is this what you thought we meant when we said spend time with her?” he just had to ask. They all had talked about it after class last night and the group consensus was that Janine would really enjoy some time with her boss and friend.

That question made Sameen wish her glare could cut through the metal door and hurt him.

At the same time, it took Janine’s focus off the icy temperature of the water. “You? Were going to spend time? With me?” she asked, breaking the one thought into three questions.

Now, Sameen stopped holding her so tightly, as she stood there, unaware that she was almost as wet as her assistant. “Oh, geez,” Shaw said, because Janine had puppy dog eyes now. “Why are you in here?” she turned her attention to the cop.

“Because it sounded like a murder was being committed,” Fusco pointed out.

“Not yet,” Shaw said, and felt open to suggestions.

All of this talk was distracting her from the process of reducing the inflammation in her friend. “Shhhaaawwww,” Janine stuttered because she was absolutely freezing now.

“Oh,” Shaw said, and turned off the water with a loud squeak. She finally noticed the woman seemed in worse shape now as she seemed incapable of holding herself up from the cold. “Okay, okay, I got you,” Shaw said, and grabbed the woman before she fell over. “Fusco, get me towels,” she shouted because that was one thing she forgot.

The poor detective rushed around the room, averting his eyes to anyone who came in to see what the hell was going on – many only dressed in only a towel. “Sorry, official police business; I swear,” he stammered as he grabbed towels.  
Rushing back with them, Shaw opened the stall door when he arrived. “Oh, geez, Maybelline,” he said, looking, then looking away, then looking back. “She don’t look so good.”

“You think?” Shaw barked and grabbed a towel to put around Janine.

“I’m so cold,” Janine said, shivering uncontrollably.

“People will think you were water boarding her, Shaw,” Fusco said and opened another towel, but hesitated to put it too close. “Were you under the water with her?” he asked, because Shaw was drenched.

“If you ask one more annoying question,” Shaw growled, but Fusco was on a roll.

“Yeah, you’ll shoot; but not if that bulge in your back is your weapon,” he pointed out because it was soaked.

“Oh, man!” Shaw said and put her hand behind her back to feel it; which meant, Fusco had to grab the woman she sort of let go of. “I got her!” she said, resigned to her weapon being rendered useless now. She took the other towel and put it around her shivering assistant.

“What the hell happened?” Fusco asked.

“Her stupid girlfriend painted her in strawberries,” the former MD summed up poorly.

“It was… _really_ … quite… lovely,” Janine stuttered and smiled.

“Fruit, eh?” Fusco said, trying to put that together.

“Big… ripe…strawberries,” said the woman who was more than willing to share topics and techniques.

“Isn’t that…?” Fusco was about to ask about the mess when Shaw stared him down.

“…. Dangerous? Why yes it is; especially if you’re allergic!” she barked.

“We gotta warm her up, Shaw; I think you overdid the shower,” Fusco assessed and annoyed his friend by pointing out the truth.

Now, if they were at one of their homes, there would be no shortage of blankets; but that wasn’t a common commodity at the office.

“Oh, I saw this show once, where this woman was freezing, and the other one undressed and pressed up close,” he recalled and made his friend’s eyes open wider with each word. “For medical purposes. At least, I think it was…,” he said, unable to recall the exact story line.

“I’m gonna hurt you when this is over,” Shaw snarled.

“Yeah? Well, I think you overplayed the shower torture,” he said, bravely because Shaw’s hands were busy holding Janine up.

“Would you shut the …. Open the door,” Sameen barked and now picked her friend up in her arms.

Janine was very much aware of what was going on. She had gone from suddenly being intensely hot in spots, to freezing all over, to feeling the strength and warmth of Sameen’s body as she held onto her.

“This is … different,” she said out loud and was really questioning her feelings about this whole thing.

The abducted assistant wasn’t the only one questioning her feelings about what was going on.

As Shaw continued to bark orders at her friend, as she carried the human Popsicle out into the hallway, they were met by their friends.

* * *

Iris’ assistant had told her about Shaw’s escapade and she came down to see if they were okay. Her expression was one of concern, until she saw her boyfriend picking up the end of the towel that fell back off Janine.

Zoe Morgan was there wearing a frightened look, as she tried to figure out why her girlfriend was undressed and soaking wet. Even knowing Shaw as she did, didn’t help her to put that into context.

“What did you do to my girlfriend?” she asked.

“What did you do to my friend?” Shaw countered.

For a woman who didn’t like to be in the middle of conflict, that short exchange exhilarated Janine. She never had two people challenging each other over her. Literally, over her.  
The only person with a smile on was Root; who stood there mesmerized by the sight of her strong wife, carrying out another human being. The fact that Sameen was totally wet …. Just added to Root’s visual pleasure.

“Lionel?” Iris asked, hoping he could offer a semi-reasonable explanation.

“Is she okay?” worried Zoe.

“God, you are so hot,” Root said, biting her bottom lip. Only then, did she ask Shaw if she needed help.

Shaw placed Janine down in a chair in her office and asked her if she felt warmer. Zoe knelt down and pulled the towel around her tighter. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes, Shaw took care of me … I had a reaction to the strawberries,” she explained.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” Zoe said, and lifted the towel just a little. The red blots were only pinkish now, thanks to the emersion therapy. “I never thought to ask you…”

“It was worth it,” Janine said and pulled her guilt ridden girlfriend in for a kiss to assure her.

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” Zoe decided and asked where her clothes were.

Ayala went to find her dress in the shower room, and returned with it. “One picture?” she whispered to her girlfriend, pleading to share just a snippet of this event. One slight shake of the head told her she was not going to do that.

“The doctor already saw me,” Janine said and it was supposed to be sort of a joke, but her body was still reveling in Shaw’s touch. “I mean, Shaw took care of things.”

“Go with her; you might need something,” Shaw instructed her assistant.

“But our time together,” Janine pouted, regretful it might have been thwarted.

Zoe raised an eyebrow; uncertain what that meant, and more uncertain she liked it. Janine read it immediately. “For Admin Assistant day; Shaw’s gift is spending time with me!”

“In the shower?” Zoe asked, her ambiguity laced with a tinge of jealousy.

Shaw looked at Zoe; ready and willing to have a fight because this whole thing was Zoe’s fault and made worse by Shaw’s distraction in the shower.

“No, silly,” Janine said, putting her dress back on – which sent Fusco flying out of the room.

* * *

“They ought to give a guy warning,” he said and then noticed the expression on Iris’ face. “What? That… was _totally_ Shaw’s fault; it was _all_ Shaw,” he protested. Iris smiled, but it wasn’t one of her – ‘don’t worry about it, Lionel’, smiles.

“We’ll talk later,” she whispered because she was at work. Then, she returned to her office.

“Thanks, Shaw; you better explain that to you know who,” he demanded when it was safe to go back inside.

Fusco offered to take Zoe and Janine to the doctor’s because leaving the premises right now, seemed like a good idea.

* * *

“Can you believe _that_?” Shaw protested to her wife when they were alone in her office.

“I can believe your quick thinking helped her; yes,” Root said, always putting a positive spin on things.

“They’ll probably just give her a cream,” Shaw assessed what the course of action would be.

“Not matter what they prescribe, Sweetie, “ Root said, moving into her wife; “… spending time with _you_ when she comes back, will be the cure.”


	87. Caught Between Root and a Hard Place

Fusco had just whisked Zoe and Janine off to the hospital to have her topical reaction to the fruit attended to. He would share in a non-gossiping way later to Shaw, that Morgan was extremely apologetic and attentive.

Root was just confirming what Shaw _didn’t_ want to hear; that the obligation ship had not sailed on her spending time with her assistant.

“I practically took a shower with the woman; doesn’t that count?” Shaw tried.

“You would think, right?” Root teased, not a jealous bone in her body over the incident. “But I actually think she’s looking for something even… more… _intimate_ ,” Root explained and no one said that word quite like Root.

“What?” Shaw asked, because there was nothing about that sentence she liked. “What does that even mean? No, don’t tell me. I don’t care what it means.” She crossed her arms and fell back in the chair, scowling.

“Dinner,” Root said as if this was a fill in the blank question.

“I haven’t had a good breakfast or lunch yet!” Shaw balked.

Root tilted her head and smiled. “How about you and I get lunch; Parks Deli okay?” she asked and didn’t wait for the affirmative answer. “Then, you can take Janine to dinner. Spend some quality time with her.”

Shaw frowned and rolled her eyes. “Should I bring flowers, too? Tell Zoe I’ll have her home by midnight?” she exaggerated.

“Flowers are optional, and yes, I want you home way before midnight,” Root teased, pulling on Shaw’s loose strand of hair that never seemed to bother her, even though it was right in her face.

“I’m not getting another dress!” Shaw protested.

“Really? Because after you’ve been out with another woman, I was thinking I’ll be pretty happy to have you home…,” Root explained and touched the arrow tattoo on Shaw’s arm in such a way; that she understood Root was saying she’d want to rip her clothes off.

“That guy is going to think I have a crush on him!” Shaw totally fabricated, but Root was not buying it.

She moved in closer to her wife, her entire face smiling and said: “I really _don’t_ think so.”

Her not so subtle rebuttal made Sameen laugh. “Okay, okay,” she admitted because no one would take Shaw’s impatient glares for flirting.

Except Root.

* * *

The doctor asked Janine some questions about her medical history and decided she had never been in any danger of axaphalatic shock, and that her reaction was dermal, indicating skin sensitivity. The doctor gave kudos to whoever thought of putting cold compresses on her, but Janine corrected her and said it was a shower. “That’s original,” the doctor commented.

“I... am… _so_ sorry,” Zoe apologized for the umpteenth time.

The doctor could tell from the trail of marks that the food had been rubbed along the skin. “I’m going to recommend cortisone cream to rub on them. I’m thinking the two of you can handle that application, without any problem,” the doctor winked.

“Oh, God,” Zoe said, embarrassed for both of them. When the doctor left the area, Janine pulled her lover in.

“Don’t worry; I wouldn’t trade a minute of last night,” Janine assured her.

“Really?” Zoe asked because she felt so bad that her girlfriend went through so much.

“Not the hives; or the near drowning; nor Detective Fusco putting on the lights to rush us here,” Janine listed; “… or how adorable you look when you blush.”

Blushing was not something the Fixer did often, but was beginning to see the benefit of allowing her feelings to express themselves. She went to apologize one more time, but Janine caught her opened mouth before the words were able to come out. “Let’s get past the part where we feel the need to say sorry so much,” Janine suggested and it sounded so sweet when she did, that Zoe was nodding her head in agreement.

The patient was released and Fusco offered to take them back, but it was a short walk. There, on the crowded corner in the middle of Manhattan, Janine gave her lover a kiss goodbye. “Maybe we could just do Netflix and chill,” Zoe suggested and from the way she said it; Janine was pretty sure she didn’t know what that meant.

“Absolutely!” Janine agreed and decided she’d update Zoe later on the double meaning. “Or brunch; we could do brunch.”

That, too, went over Zoe’s head.

* * *

Things were looking up for Sameen that afternoon. Root had figured out the solution of taking her assistant to dinner, and even talked her into getting her third new outfit that week. She had supplied Shaw with a delicious meal, which included fighting with the woman who prepared it.

By late afternoon, life was good again. And, as luck would have it, Janine was walking towards her on the same block.

“Hey, everything okay?” Shaw asked, looking her up and down to make sure.

“Yes, cortisone cream, which, oddly enough, Zoe is looking forward to applying later…,” Janine mused.

“Okay, okay; let’s have a circle of discreteness here,” Shaw complained and her hand motioned to make a circle around herself.

“Sorry,” Janine laughed, but she wasn’t really and Sameen knew it.   
“Okay, so this is how this is going to go now, thanks to your overzealous girlfriend,” Shaw announced and Janine turned all her attention back to the woman. “You and me; dinner tonight; some place not weird, with normal food.”

Janine had considered that, after the day her boss had, she might just suggest they grab coffee in the staff cafeteria. She never expected dinner.

“You? Want to have dinner? With me?” Janine gasped and Shaw swore little tiny hearts popped out of her eyes.

“Root said you’d like it. Would you rather something else?” Shaw asked, wondering if Root maybe could have been wrong.

“NO!” Janine practically squealed. “Just us?” she asked because of course it would be fine if Root wanted to come.

“Well, not your fruit happy girlfriend, if that’s what you mean,” Shaw said.

“No, Zoe’s got a meeting and we’ll get together after that,” Janine said.

“Okay, good; well, I have to go…,” Shaw said and jutted her thumb in the direction of the apparel store.

“You’re getting a dress?” Janine said enthusiastically.

“Apparently, I am,’ Shaw said, because it was what Root wanted.

“Okay, you tell me the time and the place,” Janine said.

“How would I know? I already told you the specifications,” Shaw balked, thinking she was doing her part by getting the outfit. “I’m already doing my part…,” she pointed out by pointing to the dress shop.

“Right, okay,” said the woman who knew what to do. “I’ll text you the particulars.”

“Good,” Shaw said, thinking they should share the responsibility.

Sameen sort of stomped her way to the doorway, while Janine seemed to float on air all the way back to the office.

* * *

When Sameen entered the store, she stopped in her tracks at what she saw. Right on the counter was a three tier display of fancy cookies. The salesman, who recognized his new favorite client, rushed to greet her.

“Mrs. Shaw-Groves; how are you?” he said, grabbing her hands and practically pulling her into the store.

“What are you doing?” Sameen asked, staring down at his hands.

“Sit here, please,” he instructed and ran to get the cookies. “Look what we have!”

Shaw plopped down in the chair, looking every bit disheveled as anyone would, having spent part of their day in the shower. Sameen stared at it and then up at the proprietor. “Good,” she said, taking a cookie and shoving it in her mouth.

“And why are _we_ here today?” he asked, clasping his hands.

“ _We’re_ here because the inmates are running the asylum; _AND_ it’s a holiday. My assistant and her girlfriend played connect the dots with strawberries and I spent the morning in the shower with her. But...,” Shaw thought better of it, “...she really is a good coworker, so I’m taking her to dinner.”

The tall, thin man played that entire paragraph over in his head – twice – and still had trouble deciphering it. He did understand that the occasion was a dinner. “A lovely dress, perhaps?”

Sameen shoved two more cookies in her mouth – at once. “Uhdonknow,” she said, grimacing. “Da-ast-two-dove-Oot-wild.” She started to cough from the excess food in her mouth and he rushed to grab a bottle of spring water. “Thanks, “ she said, having cleared her clogged airway.

“Dove-oot- wild?” he repeated, hoping there was an English translation.

“Yeah, she totally destroyed the first one. The wrap came off easier, but then there was paint all over the place,” Shaw explained, going back for another snack.

“Perhaps a lovely pants suit?” he tried.

“Perfect. Do they come with pockets so I can hold my gun?” she wondered.

“No,” he flat out said.

“Doesn’t matter; I have to have it repaired because she splashed water all over me in the shower,” Shaw complained.

“Mrs. Shaw-Groves?” he ventured to guess.

“No!” Shaw said, her expression clearing stating her wife would never be that careless. “My assistant. The one I’m taking to dinner?” she asked, as in – ‘have you been listening’?

“Let me get something to show you?” he segued. He practically pushed another customer out of the way as he reached for the very latest ensemble. “How about this?” he asked, and his expression was far more enthusiastic than Shaw’s.

“Okay,” she said and put her hand up to take it, but he knew better.

Using the carrot and stick approach, he held the pants suit just out of reach so she followed him into the dressing room. “Bring those,” she instructed him and he went back for the last of the cookies, taking them out of another customer’s reach.

Shaw ate, and tried on the white, low-cut top with the long black pants. “Shoes?” she asked and he had them in his other hand. He was their best salesperson because he had a knack of predicating what his customers would like.

“Anything else?” he asked, with a tilt of the head.

“Yes, I’m completely wet,” Shaw said, not realizing there was several other ways to explain that.

He turned and saw the other customers staring at him. “Please excuse me,” he blushed as he went to retrieve the necessary undergarments.

When Sameen emerged, dressed to the nines again, he clasped his hands in front of his chest; proud of what he had accomplished in such a short time. As was their routine, he said he would have her clothes delivered home. Waiting at the counter was a pocketbook, just the right size to hold – all – of her necessary items.

“Maybe sandwiches next time,” Shaw winked as she sashayed her way out of the store.

* * *

Janine had found a place close by where they could have dinner. She wanted to meet Shaw there, so she, too, could change into something dryer. That gave Sameen time to text Fusco and tell him to meet her there first.

She was sitting at the bar when he arrived. Lionel stood there for a second and marveled at how different his friend looked when she dressed up. Not a guy passed by without taking a second look.

“Your wife okay with you out here getting all this attention?” he said, taking the seat next to her and ordering a club soda.

“Here,” she said, and slammed her Glock down on the bar.

“Geezus, Shaw!” he said, fumbling to cover it with his hands and retrieve it under the bar before anyone saw. “You can’t go brandishing that in crowded public places. We got laws about that kind of thing,” he reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed him. “I need it fixed.”

“Uhm, isn’t your sidekick dating someone known as, _The Fixer_ ,?” he pointed out.

“She’s a situation fixer, not a gun smith,” Shaw said.

“You know, Martine takes these apart for fun, right?” he tried again.

“I should have thought of that,” Shaw snapped her fingers. “Could you give it to her?”

“What am I, your delivery service, too?” he balked – and rightly so.

Shaw needed to play her cards right if he was going to give in, even though he shouldn’t. “Please?” she said, touching his arm and looking over at him with the most pleading expression she knew.

“I hate when you do that; I mean, I like it because it makes you look human, but I can’t say no when you do it,” he freely admitted. “But you owe me.”

“Sure, anything,” Shaw said, taking another sip of her scotch.

“Bowling,” he said and she choked.

“What?” she said, still coughing.

“We’re down a guy and I need someone tomorrow night,” he explained.

“Oh, I got my mother’s birthday….,” she tried.

“That’s not until the weekend. We got the invitation,” he smiled victoriously at her.

“There are invitations?” Shaw asked, because they didn’t receive one.

“It’s at the museum,” he added. “Gonna be fancy, too.”

“Great,” she grimaced. “You better have my gun back by then.”

He took the gun and put it in his jacket and promised to deliver it to Martine. Shaw thanked him and texted Root.

* * *

‘ _Did you know my mother’s party is at the museum_?’ she asked.

‘ _Yes, the invitation is right here_ ,’ Root replied.

‘ _Great – mummies and mommies_ ,’ Shaw quipped and laughed at her own joke.

‘ _Send me a picture of what you’re wearing_ ,’ Root requested and of course, Sameen did. ‘ _I like it_!’

' _What's not to like?  My boobs are practically._..,' Shaw texted and then backspaced to erase.  No sense in making Root kill herself getting down there.

 

Janine finally arrived and greeted her hostess.

“I really appreciate this, Shaw,” Janine said, sitting down when the waiter held out the chair at the table in the quiet corner.

“It’s my pleasure,” Shaw said and was  sincere. She did enjoy the woman’s company; she just preferred it in front of the television so she could watch the Yankees.

Janine knew she picked a good place when Sameen took one bite of the steak and fell back in her seat, moaning with delight. “Disizgud,” she said, as the second piece went into her mouth.

The woman seemed to understand the deep connection between Sameen’s mood and her gustatory senses. Each dish seemed to tantalize her palate, which in turn, made everything more tolerable.

“I think Zoe is going to ask me to move in with her,” Janine announced after dinner and before dessert arrived.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked.

“Is it too soon?” Janine asked her boss.

“Do you know how to get to the bathroom from the bed in the middle of the night?” Shaw inquired.

“I think so,” Janine answered truthfully.

“Then, it’s not too soon,” the wise relationship guru explained.

“Oh, Shaw,” Janine laughed because she loved how her friend always seemed to have an answer… for _everything_.

That was, until another scotch and wine were delivered to the table. “Compliments of the gentleman at the bar, Ms. Shaw,” the waiter explained.

“Oh, that was nice,” Janine said, turning to see who it was. But her boss had thrown down her napkin and was up out of her seat. “Shaw?”

“Stay there,” Shaw commanded and walked with determination over to the man who had smiled back at them.

Janine could tell from her boss’ body language, this was not someone Sameen was happy to see. And if there were any doubt, she heard Sameen ask him; “ _What the hell do you want?_ ”

Janine grabbed her phone, ready to call Zoe or anyone else she might need, but Sameen was back at the table. “Oh, thank God,” Janine said and was expecting Sameen to take her seat again.

But, she didn’t.

“Listen, I have to go,” Shaw said, her voice tense and her body stiff. “Do me a favor?” she asked the woman who would do anything for her. “Promise me you won’t mention this to Root. I’ll tell her when I get home.”

Janine hesitated and Shaw repeated her request. “I… promise,” she finally conceded.

“Thank you,” Shaw replied.

A very stunned Janine sat there as she took this in. “Wait! I’m going with you,” she announced, but Shaw shook her head.

“I won’t be long. Go home and I’ll text you later. It’s fine,” Shaw assured her and Janine tried to stand up to go with her friend. “I got this,” Shaw assured her.

With that, Janine turned and watched her friend exchange words with the man at the bar and leave with him. It seemed obvious that they knew each other. He held the door opened for her as they left.  
Janine rushed to go outside and saw the car pulling away. “What is that plate?” she said, unable to get the license plate number. “What do I do? What do I do?” Janine fretted, holding her head and looking around. She had just promised Shaw she wouldn’t tell the one woman who would want to know what was going on.

At the same time that Janine was realizing the consequences of her promise; Shaw was realizing the challenge she faced… now that she gave her weapon away.


	88. Promises, Promises

Janine paced outside the restaurant, unsure of what to do next. She had just promised she would not tell Root that Shaw got into the back of a car with some man that she didn’t seem too happy to see. She could call Fusco or Martine, but then she’d be putting them in the same spot she was in. She could call Zoe, but if she gave her poor advice, Shaw might be upset with her. She walked back and forth considering her very limited options.

She sensed there was a high power at work somewhere that Root was involved with. Something that seemed to watch out for them. So, she did the only thing she could think of. She threw her head upward to the sky and yelled: “I could use some help here… with… Shaw!”

And that might have worked, except Root was at home rebooting the system after some maintenance work and the Machine had been offline. It would be a couple more minutes for the Machine to be fully back online.

“I COULD… _REALLY_ … USE SOME HELP WITH…. SHAW!” Janine tried a second time and this time, someone took notice.

The first thing she observed were lights on street cameras that seemed to flicker. “This will either get me help, or get me arrested,” she decided because now there would be hard evidence of her mental break. She walked over to one of the cameras and peered around, to make sure her fellow New Yorkers were oblivious. “Here goes,” she said, taking a deep breath and looking up. “Do you know Shaw?” she asked and then looked around again. No one was paying her any mind. “Sameen Shaw?” she said, looking directly into a camera.

Then, the oddest thing happened.

Janine’s phone rang.

‘ _Unknown caller_ ’ – it read on her screen. Usually, she wouldn’t pick those kinds of calls up, but something told her she should. “Hel..lo?” she said.

‘ _Shaw_ ,’ the odd sounding voice said.

“You know her?”

‘ _Yes_.’

“Can you see her?” Janine asked, looking around to see if there were street cameras all over. “She got into a car with a guy. We were having dinner and it was really nice because we don’t often get to spend time alone, and she’s a really sweet person when you get to know her.”

There was silence on the phone will the Machine processed this information and scoured dozens of feeds. She assessed the woman on the other side of the call had elevated heart rate, blood pressure, and was within minutes of hyperventilating. ‘ _You should take deep breaths,_ ’ the Machine advised.

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell Root,” Janine said and now one of the core processors dove into a file on human interactions for promise.

‘ _You gave her your assurance you would not reveal something_ ,’ the Machine repeated the definition in a multitude of intonations.

“Yes, my word,” Janine said hesitantly.

The Machine then calculated what would happen if Root heard this news and several warnings came up. ‘ _Root will not be happy_ ,’ she concluded.

“Right, and Shaw won’t be if I tell; so could you find her? Maybe…?” Janine was suggesting she could help her boss.

‘ _If she is in danger, I am required to assistant her_ ,’ the Machine explained her main objective.

Janine thought about what was happening; she was speaking to a sort of artificial intelligence through her phone that could see her through a street camera. It seemed perfectly reasonable that her genius boss would have such a program. “Uhm…,” she said hesitantly, “… you’re not going to use lasers to shoot up anyone are you?”

‘ _My objective is to determine if she is in danger and assistant her if she is,_ ’ the Machine repeated.

“Okay, well, I don’t want anyone seared in half,” Janine worried.

‘ _I have found her_ ,’ the Machine said.

“Oh good! Where… hello? Hello? Hey, where did you go?” she yelled up at the camera and this time, some people did notice her odd behavior.

In the few seconds it took Janine to fret and worry, the Machine was playing out several scenarios of how this event should move forward. It seemed easier to assess the outcome than it was figuring out the moral dilemmas humans often found themselves in. First and foremost in that pyramidal results table was… Root and Shaw. The Machine had to take whatever course of action resulted in their safety.

The Machine was about to put her plan into action.

* * *

“Any anomalies?” Root asked the Machine when she was fully back online.

“ _None that cannot be handled,_ ” the Machine spoke back to Root.

“Pretty confident, aren’t we?” Root laughed as she checked to make sure everything was working.

“ _My objectives are always you, Shaw and Michael_ ,” the Machine said.

Root fiddled around some more with the virus checker and listened for Michael on the baby monitor. She checked her watch more than once, anxious for Sameen to come home. “I wonder what she’s wearing?” she said out loud, excited to think of the outfit.

“ _It is a white top and black pants_ ,” the Machine informed Root.

“How… do you know that?” Root asked and waited. But suddenly, the screen filled up with random code; which the Machine quickly assessed would distract her while she helped Shaw. Then, the AI produced a copy of the bill of sales for Sameen’s outfit.  
“She does have such good taste,” Root smiled.

* * *

“It’s been a long time, Shaw,” her host said when they drove not far away and parked in an alley. “Imagine my surprise running into you there,” he smiled, even though it was all planned.

Shaw perused the entire back seat and setting outside; assessing what things could be used as a weapon and how far she’d have to go to get them. It seemed her host knew her.

“Don’t be ridiculous; you won’t need to hit anyone. Relax; I don’t want you ruining your new outfit. Let me get you a scotch,” he said and poured two glasses from the minibar in the back.

Sameen refused the glass and he shrugged and drank them both.

“What do you want?” Sameen asked him when she felt confident she could get out of the car and handle the situation. Her host had brandished no gun; the driver issued no threat; and yet Sameen sat there; willingly.

“I would make a run for those crates over there,” he said, pointing to a stack of them outside the car. “What do I want? I don’t want anything… now.”

“This isn’t going the way you expect it,” Shaw warned him. “You don’t get to play that card whenever you want. You tell me now, or I walk out of here, not owing you anything.”

“Your word used to mean something, Shaw,” he snidely reminded. “I mean, there was a time when all you would offer a fellow marine was your word. You never gave anything else, am I right?” he asked of Sameen’s refusal to ever use her body to get what she wanted.

“I have a wife who will kill you for less than what you just said,” Shaw said.

“Samantha Groves,” he replied. “I don’t think you want her in this, do you? I mean, how bad would it look for her if the news breaks that her wife owes such a large sum of money. I mean, we can make it look like a gambling debt.”

Shaw grimaced at how stupid she was to forget this whole thing was still hanging over your head.  But she was good at putting things out of her head. 

“You’re not the kind of woman who doesn’t repay her debts, Shaw. I know that about you. But you sure did make it hard to find you after Afghanistan,” her fellow marine said to her.

“I went recon; in a little group called the CIA,” she said to him as she bit her bottom lip.

“Oh, look at you; special ops. I can’t say I’m surprised, Shaw. For a petite woman, you always have a set of brass balls,” he laughed and meant it as a compliment. “Look, I don’t want trouble; I just want my money.”

“ _Your_ money?” Shaw asked because this guy was only the front guy.

“Look Shaw; you’re the one who needed our help. You insisted on risking your neck for those hajis,” he reminded her. “Me and my group controlled that border and you came to use for help. Looking the other way while you let them escape cost money.”

“They were women and children, Frank,” Shaw reminded him.

“Oh, so you do remember my name! Well, I’m glad to hear that, Shaw, because I want this to remain friendly. Look, it’s a debt you owe; simple as that. And in case you forgot,” he said, waiting until she turned her glare towards him; “… those hajis cost you twenty five thousand each. You got out, what? Forty six, right? Did you even get a thank you or Christmas card, Shaw? Anyway, that total was one million, one hundred and fifty thousand. Compounded annually at five percent…,” he said, looking up at the ceiling, “…you couldn’t get that rate today, by the way. Anyway, Shaw, that brings us to $2,390,767 and change.”

Sameen just stared at him, not bothering to check his math.

“It’s just business, Shaw,” he assured her.

Then, the automatic locks on the car all opened and Sameen's door shot open.

* * *

‘ _I have found her_ ,’ the message said on Janine’s phone as she tried to breathe deeply to prevent from throwing up.

“Are we talking or texting or what? Where is she?” Janine shouted up at the camera.

‘ _There_ ,’ came the text as Sameen turned the corner and was walking back to her.


	89. Uncharted Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy #ShootWeek18

Janine wasn’t _exactly_ sure what type of entity she was dealing with; but upon seeing her friend walk back, unharmed; she raised her head upward to the skies and said – ‘Thank you!’

Shaw always thought her assistant had this uncanny knack to reflect all the good things in people. Now she worried the woman’s mirror would show all that was bad in herself. Bad as in - never having told Root about this.

As she got closer, Shaw knew she may have gained the woman’s silence, but that didn’t mean her facial expression wasn’t speaking volumes.

“Oh, thank… _God_!” Janine said and wondered if that as appropriate or not, but decided she’d think about that later. “Are you okay?” She was rushing at Shaw, and stopped only inches away to look her up and down. “You don’t look like you’ve been in a fight,” she observed.

One look at Sameen’s face and both women knew Shaw was worried about trouble that wasn’t quite there yet.

“So, I didn’t…,” Janine started to say and meant she didn’t call Root like every fiber of her being told her she should.

“Okay, good, yeah,” Shaw said and found the pockets in her pants and shoved her hands in.

“Oh, I took this,” Janine said, and handed Shaw back her purse. “You… left it…,” Janine said, looking back at the restaurant.

The two women sounded a lot like a couple that weren’t sure how to end a date appropriately.

“Thanks,” Shaw said, uncomfortable with the silence between them, but unsure of what to do.

Janine was feeling for her boss; and could tell she was hesitating for a reason. Unbeknownst to the friend, her light eyes always echoed an ideal image of Shaw, and Shaw was almost afraid to look in them – because of what happened.

“I guess…,” Janine started to say, “… we should _go_?” It was more a question than a decision. She didn’t want to leave her boss a second before she wanted her to.

Sameen hemmed and hawed, unable to look the woman in the eye, until she figured out what to do. As if to ward off the questions she decided were bursting to be asked, she blurted out: “It’s not that I didn’t tell Root,” she started to explain; “… I forgot about it. I forgot a long time ago, and sure, it was probably there somewhere in my memory, but I repressed a lot. I’m good at it.”

“Sure, Shaw,” Janine said empathically. “I think… Root will understand,” she assured her, even though she had no idea what the issue was. “I mean, I know she will.”

“Yeah, she will,” Shaw agreed, but didn’t move.

“He didn’t… you’re not hurt, though, right,” Janine said and her muscles puffed up out of protection. Shaw smiled at what a good friend this woman was.

“Maybe I should take you home with me,” Sameen smiled and immediately saw the look of concern to be in that position. “No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said, but Janine would have done that.

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Janine asked, and meant she’d offer moral support right up to the Penthouse door.

And much to everyone’s surprise, including the AI watching through the street camera; Sameen said... yes. Even Shaw was surprised; but it made sense. If anyone could offer support without doing it directly, it was Janine.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” Janine said when her friend fell silent under the Manhattan skylight and the frown appeared on her face. “You know, before your… that guy showed up.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Sameen stopped in her tracks. “I would have told her,” she repeated. “I don’t remember every deal I made to get out of a situation. It was the war, for God’s sake. People do a lot of weird shit during a war,” Sameen said and now, Janine was really worried.

Thinking it couldn’t hurt to pull out all the stops; she came up with an idea for her boss. “Shaw?” Janine said, picking up on how uncomfortable the woman with nerves of steel was. Then, she leaned in and whispered her idea. “I think… it could help,” she advised to a rather silent Sameen, who simply stared at her.

“Where do you even come up with these ideas?” Shaw asked, staring hard because it didn’t seem to fit.

Janine looked around to make sure no one was near and when she thought they could do it discretely, she put out her hand and nodded.

“You want me to give you my…? Here?” Shaw asked, astonished.

“Yes,” Janine said, and urged her to do it. “Your bag is small.”

Shaw was saying no and that this was ludicrous, but she was already on shaky ground. Here resistance gave way to the pair of raised eyebrows that were aimed at her to come up with a better idea. “Fine,” she said, and shoved her hand down her low-cut white top and unsnapped her bra. “I cannot believe you think this is a good idea,” protested the woman going along with it. She whipped the garment out and handed it over; her expression asking ‘ _Are you satisfied?_ ’

“Good,” Janine said, and folded it neatly and put it in her bag. “Now, go…,” she instructed her boss, adding; “Good luck and if all else fails…,” she said, and then bent herself over at the waist.

“Do _not_ say…,” Shaw barked, but it was too late; she had just named the anatomy.

“….Show the girls…” she winked as she walked away.

* * *

Shaw turned and bit her lip, unable to express in words how she never felt so unprepared on a mission. Of course, those countless missions never included facing someone like her wife. Stopping now at the front desk where she typically whooshed by every day, Sameen paused and announced; “I never had these dilemmas before they taught me about feelings, you know.” And with that declaration, she was gone.

“You have a good evening, Mrs. Shaw-Groves,” the friendly, but befuddled, doorman said, as she entered the elevator.

“I doubt it,” Shaw grumbled as the door closed.

Inside her private carriage, Shaw thought through what her plan would be. “I’ll just tell her; straight out. Just straight out,” she said as she neared the Penthouse. When the elevator dinged that it had arrived at her floor, Shaw experienced something she had trouble naming. She was actually… nervous.

“There’s Shaw!” Root said to the canines inside the apartment when she heard the elevator. Then, after making sure Michael was soundly asleep, Root rushed down the stairs to greet her wife. It was a little later than she had expected, but she figured Shaw probably didn’t want to be rude and end dinner too soon. She could understand Janine’s infatuation with her wife. After all, what wasn’t there to be infatuated about?

In spite of the self-talk to get ahold of herself and face this like a woman; Shaw crash landed upon seeing that sweet face waiting for her.

“Oh, my God,” Root said, looking Shaw up and down and not quite seeing how low her shoulders just fell. She was too busy taking in the exquisite deep v-cut white top and black pants. “You look…,” she said and Shaw waited; certain her wife would say something about looking suspicious. “…wonderful,” Root completed her thought and moved in to kiss her wife.

Shaw forgot everything she had planned on doing and surrendered to that kiss; that warm embrace that was filled with missing and wanting and happy to see her. Hands reached out for hers and intertwined fingers. It was all so gentle and sweet that it completely disarmed Shaw.

But Root wasn’t just aware of Sameen’s absence; she was aware that she was with someone else; and even though she sanctioned it, a part of how just deeply needed to reclaim her.

“Is that… someone else’s perfume?” Root asked, feigning concern.

“What?” Shaw asked, distracted. “No!” She worried Frank’s overwhelming cologne permeated her clothes when she was in the car.

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” Root continued her game.

“Shakespeare? Really, Root?” Shaw said, taking a deep breath.

Root’s fingers slipped over the edge of Sameen’s top and swiped along the top of her breast. “Lose something?” she asked playfully. In Root’s mind, she was about to play the jealous lover.

“Gezzus, you make this so _hard_!” Shaw finally said.

“Hmm, I guess I do,” Root toyed with her as her finger moved further down. She smiled devilishly, assuming of course, that Sameen was talking about how easily she could whip up a fantasy. “Did you take it off in the back of someone’s car, maybe?” Root ventured a totally fabricated guess.

Sameen pulled back, falling against the wall, looking very much like she just got punched.

“Who told you? You’re overseeing overlord who…who can’t keep her nose out of other people’s business?” Shaw wondered because she thought it was odd the way the locks all shot up and the door opened wide on Frank’s car.

‘ _What is going on_?’ Shadow barked softly to Bear.

‘ _I’m not sure; I’ve never seen this before. But, it does not look good_ ,’ he assessed correctly.

“Don’t be silly,” Root cooed. “It’s written all over your face,” she announced.

Shaw couldn’t say what she meant exactly when she announced; “Root, I’m in trouble,” because she wasn’t sure if she meant with Root, or with the circumstance that reared its ugly head tonight.

“Oh, and your heart is racing,” Root added, taking this as sign that Sameen was getting as turned on as she was. “Have you…,” she whispered as she started a trail of kisses down her wife’s neck, “… been a _bad_ girl?”

Root’s breath on Sameen’s neck was making her lightheaded; and she was slowly opening up the buttons on Shaw’s top. The tip of her tongue was making a trail on her breast now, until she enveloped the tip and made Sameen gasp loudly. “Real… trouble,” Sameen said, but nothing in her voice affirmed the seriousness she intended.

“I know,” Root agreed and slid her hands down the band of the black pants; disposing of them quickly. “At least I know you didn’t give these away,” she teased as she playfully snapped the elastic band of her panties. “Then, you’d be in real trouble.”

Shaw wanted to stop her; she wanted to tell her everything, but Root’s hand pulled Sameen’s leg up onto her hip, and was softly touching her below. “I’m going to have to punish you,” she teased and began exploring the soft folds. Sameen’s heart was pounding through her chest, and her head felt faint. Root pushed her back against the wall to hold her up, as she covered her mouth, muffling the screams that signaled her success at making Sameen forget everything.

Shaw’s own nerves intensified every touch Root placed on her. She was a cyclone of mixed emotions inside; her heartfelt guilt mixing with her carnal fire. She wanted Root to understand what she did; but the shortcut seemed to be Root taking her body and pushing it into a state of explosions.

But then, she came down; and there were those soft brown eyes smiling back at her. Again.

What Root looked at was a very usual distant look in Sameen’s. She was beginning to wonder if Shaw was on a different page. She often needed to prompt Sameen along in these fantasies, so this wasn’t anything new. Taking Sameen’s chin and pulling it up so she could look into her eyes; she reminded her: “I’m playing the jealous wife when you come in after being out with another woman.” The look of satisfaction on Root’s face was priceless. There wasn’t a role she didn’t think she could play.

“Well, you’re… very… good… at… it,” Shaw gasped, still out of breath.

“The question is,” Root said, getting back in character, “… how bad have you been?” She pulled Sameen into her, cupping her derriere.

Shaw hated to spoil the moment, especially one that Root was enjoying so much. But she had a time limit. So, she uttered those four words that form the buzz-kill phrase to any romantic interlude.

“We need to talk.”

And because of how well Root knew Sameen, she knew instantly, the game was no longer afoot.

“Of course,” Root said and bent down, holding Sameen’s pants so she could get back in them.

They walked quietly to the couch and sat down.

Even Bear and Shadow sat up now, staring at the hesitating woman.

‘ _This is not good_ ,’ Bear explained, but even the inexperienced canine could sense it wasn’t.

“I ran into a guy I know,” Shaw said and was surprised at how tight her throat felt. “From a long time ago,” she continued and really could have used a drink.

‘ _She needs scotch_ ,’ Bear assessed correctly and wished he had been born with opposable thumbs.

“A marine?” Root asked, suddenly aware of her wife’s voice. “Do you want a drink?”

“Yes,” Shaw said, relying on her outdated and misguided belief in the liquid courage. She watched Root pour the drink and bring it to her. “I owe him money.”

Root wasn’t sure where this was going, but for a split second she thought it might be something awful. “Oh, thank God,” she said and took Sameen’s hand. “I thought this was going to be something hard.”

Shaw stared at Root’s genuine relief. “It’s… _a lot_ … of money,” she said clearly.

“Okay,” Root said, still unfazed. “We can wire it tomorrow…”

“Root!” said the woman who never believed life’s problems came with easy solutions, “… a lot, a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good think I put money away for just these kinds of emergencies,” said the woman who had NO idea what kind of emergency this was.

“Root, are you interested in the amount of money we’re talking here? Because it’s big, really big,” Shaw asked.

“What I’m interested in…,” Root said slowly, “… is getting back to reclaiming my wife.”

“In excess of two million,” Shaw bluntly stated. “And you can’t just give me that money!”

“Oh,” Root said, realizing there was a fine line to walk here because of Shaw’s pride. “I could lend it to you and take it back in trade.”

“It would take me a hundred … oh,” Shaw said, seeing the glint in Root’s eye at that prospect. “I can’t take _your_ money, Root.”

“Did you just say… _your_?” Root said sternly, raising her eyebrows. “There is no ‘ _your_ ’ anymore, Sweetie. It’s ours.”

“No, but I’m not going to argue that now. I just needed to tell you why I never told you,” Shaw said because the tightness was building again in her chest.

“Okay,” Root said because she already knew if Sameen hadn’t told her, there was a good reason.

All the awful preparation Shaw did and the worry about how Root would handle this seemed to dissipate. There was Root; waiting to hear what she had to say – calmly and patiently. The only thing Sameen could think of saying was; “I don’t deserve you.”

“You really are in trouble now,” Root said, and there wasn’t anything light about that. “You’re going to tell me what happened; then, you and I will come up with the solution. And then, after it’s done; we’re going to talk.”

“I… uhm…,” Shaw said, unsure if she was in trouble and if so, what for.

* * *

Sameen wasn’t the only one confused that night. Way across town, Janine had stopped by Zoe’s apartment. In her usual rush to kiss her girlfriend, she threw her pocketbook down; spilling the contents. Zoe poured two glasses of wine and was handing Janine hers, when she noticed the fallen purse.

“How was your dinner?” she asked, as she stooped to pick up the bag.

“Really good; I mean really good,” Janine said, between gulps of wine, hoping to calm herself. “Shaw and I had… such fun!”

“Really? Want to tell me about _this_?” Zoe asked, standing back up with someone’s bra in her hand.


	90. Tables Turning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Let's file this chapter under - When Root and Janine aren't the patient, reasonable ones. Not sure it works - not sure it answers all the questions. But in order to 'see' change, we need measures.

If Zoe was expecting a nervous response upon seeing her holding the bra, which she was almost certain was _not_ her girlfriend’s; well, she wasn’t going to get it.

“Oh! I have to give that back to Shaw tomorrow,” Janine smiled, sipping wine.

“Let’s talk about _why_ it’s off her and in your bag,” Zoe suggested, not moving. She wasn’t entirely comfortable holding another person’s undergarment, but she wasn’t – figuratively and literally – letting go just yet.

“All I can say is that Shaw… might be… in trouble. Now, I told her Root would be calm and hear her out; but just in case, I suggested…,” Janine said and then motioned her hands near her chest. She could tell from Zoe’s expression that she wasn’t quite getting it. “Flash the girls,” she filled in the blank.

“Oh,” Zoe responded. “And did she give this up willingly, or did you wrestle her for it?”

“She didn’t want to give it to me; but I sort of insisted,” Janine answered truthfully.

“I don’t know which I’m having trouble with more; _Shaw_ being in some sort of trouble… with Root; or _you_ talking her into giving you her bra,” Zoe admitted. She placed the clothing back in Janine’s bag.

“It’s not like that,” Janine assured her lover; “… we were having a really nice dinner.”

“Oh, _do tell_ me more,” Zoe said, sitting down and trying like hell to suppress the jealousy biting to get out.

Janine immediately read the tone and moved closer, handed Zoe her wine and put her hand on her knee. “We were having a really nice time… when,” she started over again, “… Shaw had to take care of something unexpected. Something she hadn’t yet shared with Root. I assured her Root would not be upset, but she wasn’t so sure. So, for insurance purposes only, I suggested she…”

“Yes, I got that part,” Zoe confirmed. “Why didn’t _she_ just put it in _her_ bag?”

Now, it was a fair question and Zoe watched as her girlfriend hesitated in responding. “I told Shaw that I knew Root would understand, but to be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure of the nature of this issue, so I wanted her to be totally armed – or disarmed, as the case may be.”

“Yes, I got that part, too. Why wasn’t it in _Shaw’s_ bag?” Zoe repeated.

But the slyest smile appeared on her girlfriend’s face. “I was hoping…,” Janine said, running her finger along Zoe’s thigh, “… it might make you jealous. You know, science has proven that when a beautiful woman finds your lover desirous, they appear more attractive to you.”

“You were hoping I’d be jealous?” Zoe asked, to be sure. Light blue eyes, filled with guilt, looked up at her. “Nothing could make you more attractive to me.”

Those eyes shimmered with gratitude at the sweet sentiment, but Janine was sort of after something else. “But suppose… let’s just say… Shaw was interested in me. Purely hypothetically. What…?” she was asking when Zoe took her glass of wine and placed it on the table next to hers.

“Shaw would have the fight of her life on her hands,” Zoe said in a raspy voice as she pulled Janine in for a hard, long kiss. She knew immediately this was some sort of fantasy her girlfriend must have.

Only in a pretend, and only for a short time, could the woman who adored Shaw, entertain the thought that her lover was willing to fight for her. She couldn’t sustain the imagining for too long because she would feel torn, and …. She wasn’t sure Zoe would win.

Whatever this was that Janine instigated was having a different effect on her girlfriend. Strong arms pushed her down on the couch and hands swept under her clothing to disrobe her. “I’m usually not territorial,” Zoe whispered close to her ear, “… but I take what’s mine.”

That declaration of control, even in a fictitious setting, was enough to make Janine weak in the knees. She so admired powerful women; and now one of them was hers.

* * *

Root hadn’t even asked how this monetary debt came about. She was already figuring out what options they had. She was also figuring out how to convince Sameen that she was serious about her assets being hers now. For Root, that seemed the bigger issue. But even without asking for any explanation, Sameen wanted to tell Root.

“Root, I want to tell you about this, but I don’t want you to get all…,” and Shaw stopped while she tried to figure out the word.

Root was afraid she was going to ask her not to get mad, which she wouldn’t. What expectation her wife had, she wasn’t sure. She watched Sameen’s face contort as she tried to find the right word. Even Shaw’s hands tried to express what she meant by motioning.

“… syrupy,” Sameen finally chose.

Now, whatever Sameen meant, was going to have to wait until Root could get what _she_ thought _syrupy_ meant out of the way.

“Root?” Shaw said, drawing her back from the thought of drizzling that all over.

“Yes?” Root said, almost back from it.

“Do you know what I mean?” Shaw asked.

“I think so,” Root said, but her breathy tone belied her full attention. Her finger was tracing a line up Sameen’s tattoo on her arm. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Shaw said, taking Root’s hands gently in hers. “I mean… don’t get all _emotional_ on me.”

“Emotional… how?” Root asked, worried she was afraid she’d react to something bad. “Did he…?” she asked, fire practically coming out of her mouth.

“Wait, what? No, Root this doesn’t even classify as extortion,” Shaw said, and grimaced at that fact. “I agreed to the terms.”

“Shaw, you’re confusing me. Just tell me….,” Root pleaded.

“It was in Afghanistan. We were there to keep several factions separated. Except, there was one area to escape all of the insanity. We controlled that, too. We weren’t letting too many people out, and those that did….,” Shaw retold.

“…Came at a price?” Root put together quickly, surprising her wife.

“You really are a genius,” Shaw noted. “So, yeah, I agreed to pay twenty-five thousand a head for women and children that needed to get….”

And that was all Sameen was able to say, before Root pounced on her and kissed her hard for her humanitarian efforts.

“Oh, my God, Sameen; you saved forty six people?” Root said, laying atop her and stroking her hair as she gazed down into her eyes.

“How did you know how many…?” Shaw was asking when Root explained she worked the number backwards,

“… assuming a five percent interest rate, over these years, making it a total of $2,390,767; give or take,” Root concluded.

“Yeah, give or take,” Shaw said, amazed at how she did that.

“Look at you,” Root said, her tone filled with admiration, “… kicking ass and saving lives.”

“Oh, geez, Root, don’t make a big deal,” Shaw dismissed the truth of the matter. “I think you’re missing the point about it being a lot of money.”

“I didn’t _miss_ that at all. I think you _missed_ the part where I said we could get it,” Root corrected the woman who lay beneath her.

“Maybe I could… uhm, play poker for it?” Shaw tried to think of a way to get the proceeds.

“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” Root pointed out.

“Root, getting on your health care is one thing; okay? Taking your life savings? That’s something else,” Shaw argued.

“First, we’re going to figure out who this Frank is and who is this group he is with,” Root said, as if she were putting together their next move; which she was.

“Root…,” Shaw tried to stop the thought train that was already pulling out. “They were just a group of marines…”

“… then we’re going to give them their money in unmarked bills,” Root said, her eyes opening wide with excitement as the pieces came together.

“How do you even have this…? _Unmarked_ … bills? Do you happen to have a few million of them…?” Shaw asked.

“I know exactly where we can find them,” Root said, knowingly. “What these people did was ruthless, Shaw.”

“Root, even if you could get to this trunk full of money, which for some reason, you keep hidden somewhere; you forgot the part where I said I can’t take it,” Shaw said because it just didn’t seem fair to her that her past should cost Root.

And.. this... was the part… where Root… lost it.

She shot up straight and stood up; peering down at her wife, who was still prostrate on the couch. “I want to be patient with you, Sameen,” she began and anger was fueling the hurt she felt now. “… but you are really testing me with this.”

It was so rare for Root to poke at Sameen, unless it was to part of a _Roman warrior_ fantasy with swords, that Sameen wasn’t sure how to react. But she knew how to go from the frying pan into the fire.

“I’m _testing_ you?” Shaw retorted because she had no lines of her own just yet. “What’s with the poor listening skills?” she asked, getting up off the couch to face Root.

“What part of _you and me are in this together_ don’t you get?” Root said back tersely.

Bear’s head twisted back and forth. Seeing Sameen like this was one thing; seeing Root upset was completely new to him. He needed help and the closest four legged was sound asleep upstairs. He’d have to rely on someone else. He ran out of the room; Shadow at his heels.

“Root, it’s not that I don’t appreciate this; I do,” Shaw tried.

“You were saving women and children, Shaw! They took _advantage_ of you then, and they’re compounding it now,” Root pointed out and in hindsight, probably shouldn’t have used that wording with the ego driven woman.

“Okay, they didn’t take _advantage_ , I agreed. This is why I have to give them the money. Look, I am only telling you all of this because I don’t want secrets. And I sort of forgot all of this; burying it with a lot of crap, okay?”

“If you didn’t tell me, there’s a good reason. And that’s good enough for me,” Root said. “But thinking you can go these things alone? That what I have isn’t yours, too? Well, that just hurts, Shaw.”

The last thing Sameen wanted was to hurt Root. Ever. But she couldn’t seem to reconcile that her actions would be taking advantage of Root. It wasn’t just her pride she had to push aside; it seemed dishonorable to her.

Until Root explained ……

“Let me just see who they are. If there actions are nefarious in anyway, then I might have an idea of how to handle this. If they’re simply business people looking to get repaid, then we’ll talk about that. But either way, Sameen; we’re doing this together.”

“Root, I’m sorry…,” Shaw said, and this was only fodder for her conviction that emotions eventually screwed you over.

“I’m not done with you,” Root said sincerely. “But we need to take care of this first. Then, you and I will sit down and talk about this, okay?”

Root sounded only slightly calmer, but it was enough to get Shaw to agree.

“And _when_ we have that talk?” Root said, taking her wife by the hand into the library where she could access the machine.

“Yes?” Shaw said.

“You better bring you A game, Sameen,” Root warned.


	91. Everyone Wants to Help

Sameen noticed the tightness of Root’s pull on her hand. It wasn’t harsh, but it was definite. And there was no mistaking her tone. Even when delivering bad news, Root’s voice was always calm and even. There was a sharpness Sameen had not heard before. And she was having trouble figuring out why.

Root let go when she sat down at the computer and accessed the Machine. She asked Sameen particulars; like Frank’s name, time of deployment, who else was assigned to the border patrol. Sameen had trouble recalling some of that information because she barely paid attention to real names and only remembered nicknames. But based on what little she could tell her, the Machine was able to access military personnel records.

“Is this Frank?” Root said, turning the screen to her wife.

“Yes,” Shaw said and wanted to stop Root from doing all this work. The bottom line was, she had given her word.

“Are these the other ones?” Root asked when the Machine located a group picture.

Shaw leaned over and looked closer. “Yeah, but…,” she got out, but Root was already tapping the keys again.

“This might take a while, so we should go to bed,” Root announced and there was nothing underlying that statement except the suggestion of sleep.

If Shaw were better practiced in relationships, she might have immediately known this was the time to throw herself on the mercy of the marital courts. But she was still trying not to get annoyed… that Root was annoyed.

* * *

The couple went into their bedroom and Root went into the bathroom… alone. The silence was killing Shaw. The longer this went on, the less confident she grew. The less confident she got; the more frustrated she became.  
Root smiled when she emerged, dressed in pajamas for bed.

“I know you’re mad at me,” Shaw said. “But you have to understand this from my point of view. You’ve never been a marine, okay? You don’t know what that bond is like,” she said pacing back and forth and digging herself in deeper.

“That… _bond_?” Root questioned.

* * *

Even Bear, in the next room, could head the disaster in the making. He growled at the computer.

‘ _What do you suggest I do_?’ the Machine asked.

‘ _Shut her up_!’ the wise canine suggested.

The screen flashed lines and lines of calculations. She informed the dog that humans did not have wires, nor did they operate wirelessly, in case he was unfamiliar. He turned and looked at Shadow and shook his head. If there was anything more annoying that bipeds; it was machines.

The Machine then calculated options and chose one. She sent Shaw a text… on her phone.

‘ _Silence is golde_ n,’ the first message read.

“What the hell is this?” Shaw immediately asked upon seeing it. She threw her phone down. “All I’m saying is that you have to take into account that I gave my word,” she continued to preach.

_‘If you want something done right; do it yoursel_ f,’ Bear barked to Shadow. ‘ _Follow me,_ ’ he said and put his sure fire plan into action.

If the Machine thought cognitive commands would work with Sameen, Bear was thinking more kinesthetically. Barging into the bedroom, quietly and stealthy, they attacked with swiftness and precision.

As Root stared at her wife, who was standing at the side of the bed, digging herself in deeper, Shadow jumped up and pushed her down on the bed. Then, Bear did what he did best. He bit her in the butt.

They were out the door before the screaming started and pillows were launched at them. “I’m going to kill both of them!” came the promise, as she ripped off her pants to turn and see if she could see the injury.

Root knew exactly what had happened. And it worked like a charm. Sameen ranted and raved about the animal attack and stopped putting her foot in her mouth.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Root said, when she finally calmed down.

“Say goodbye to them in the morning, Root. I’m going to kill them,” she threatened again.

But Root knew they probably just saved Sameen a whole lot of pain… in the _end_. Ironically.

* * *

The next morning, Janine dangled a piece of fruit off her folk as she watched Zoe make waffles. “Thanks for helping with that cream,” she said, because Zoe had been very attentive to applying it on the hives.

“It was my pleasure,” Zoe said, putting a large Belgian waffle onto her plate. “Whip cream?” she asked, because some people like that on top of their breakfast food.

“Oh, God; _yes_ , please,” Janine said and pushed the two plates out of the way. Seconds later, she had the can in her hand, and was pushing Zoe’s robe off her shoulder.

“Please tell me you’re not allergic…,” Zoe begged.

“I’m willing to pay the price if I am,” Janine promised.

“You’re ruining my reputation for always being on time,” Zoe teased, because she was going to miss her early morning appointment gladly.

“Really?” Janine asked, applying a streak of the white cream on her lover’s breast. “Just your reputation for being on time? I guess I’ll have to try harder.”

An hour later, after the two indulged and showered, they got ready for work.

“I’ll return this to Shaw,” Janine said, patting her purse’s contents.

“Please do,” Zoe replied, not needing props to make her jealous.

She probably should have mentioned that Janine should return it discretely. But who would have thought otherwise?

* * *

Fortunately for all parties involved, Root made sure that Daan picked up the dogs very early the next morning. She knew this was going to be a long day… for her wife. She had every faith in her that she could make the necessary changes; but that didn’t mean the learning curve wasn’t going to be steep.

She kissed her good morning and told Sameen she’d meet her downstairs, after getting Michael.

Isabelle was worried. She had never seen this before. Sameen was sitting there, picking at her food.

“Are you…?” she was asking when Sameen blurted it out.

“She’s mad at me,” she said, throwing the fork down and crossing her arms. “Her stupid dogs bit me; do you want to see?” Sameen said, and stood up and pulled her pants down to expose the red area.

“Oh, my!” Isabelle said upon seeing it. “Are you… are they?” she quickly changed it to because they had left before she arrived. “Why is Root mad?” she asked.

“Because… I don’t know. For a genius,” Shaw said, sitting down and shoving an entire pancake in her mouth, “… she’s very complicated.”

“Really?” asked the woman of thirty five years of marriage. She knew a thing or two about relational spats. “What part is your part?”

If it weren’t for the fact that this woman was the lifeline to Sameen’s favorite foods, she would have done something drastic. Instead, she simply shot her a look of complete disbelief.

“I won’t take her money,” Sameen summed up the issue.

“Too proud?” Isabelle asked, her questions as sharp as her knives.

“No! It’s not that,” protested the guilty party. “I made a promise. I can’t go back on my word.”

“You mean, _promise_ … as in _vow_?” the older woman pushed the envelope.

Shaw was about to announce that she didn’t have to sit there and take this kind of harassment in her own kitchen, but Root walked in. She greeted the chef with her usual calm and pleasant manner. ‘See?’ Sameen’s expression asked Isabelle.

“We have to go,” Root announced and waited for Sameen. “You and I have a ten o’clock appointment in my office.”

“Are you firing me?” Shaw half kidded, but no one was laughing. In fact, Michael’s direct scream urged her mother to come.  “Sure, you heard her side of the story first,” Shaw complained to the baby. Michael reached over; mouth opened and kissed Sameen’s cheek. “Okay, that’s better.”

* * *

There was nothing unusual about Root’s demeanor that morning and it was annoying the life out of her wife. When they arrived at work, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just tell me why you’re upset,” Shaw begged. “Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

“I appreciate that; I do,” Root smiled and kissed Sameen. “And you’ll have your chance to do that. Ten o’clock in my office.”

With that, Root waved and Shaw got off the elevator.

“So help me, Fusco; if you don’t have doughnuts,” Shaw barked.

“Say it nicer,” he said, putting the bag behind his back.

“I’m sorry,” Shaw said, hearing her own tone. “Please.”

“Better,” said the man who believed the rough edges around his friend could be smoothed. He handed her the bag and let her dive in.

“Yuhno,” she said, powder covering her lips, “…uhmentrubleenddonknowwhy.”

“Oh, I’m _sure_ we could figure this out,” he said sincerely and put the coffee on the desk in front of her, hoping she wouldn’t choke.

“Root doesn’t understand,” Shaw said defensively and Fusco was trying to decide if having to sit through this was a good enough excuse to go off his diet. “I was a marine,” she said, and on that note, he decided yes.

“You want give me a subject, a verb, maybe an adjective or two?” he asked, taking his well-deserved snack.

“I made a deal, with some guys, a long time ago. I owe them money and I have to pay it back. I gave my word,” Shaw listed.

“What are we talking, like your bar tab?” Fusco asked.

“A… lot… of money,” Shaw replied.

“So, that’s a yes?” Fusco said, and laughed.

“You’re not helping,” Shaw complained.

“Okay, okay, try me,” he said, because he did want to help. Oh, and because the more she talked, the more he felt entitled to eat.

“I gave my word to these dopes that I would pay their price. Now, they found me, and Root is insisting on paying it. But I can’t let her,” Shaw explained.

“Why?” Fusco asked.

“Are you listening?” Shaw asked because in her head, it was perfectly clear.

“You owe some money and your wife wants to help you pay,” Fusco said and drew her stare because it proved he had been sort of listening.

“And…?” she prompted him.

“And what? You’re married; what hers is yours, what’s yours is hers. I don’t need to point out that _you_ got the better of that deal,” he pointed out.

Only because Shaw liked the man did she draw a long breath and not a weapon. “Okay, look. If Root pays this debt, what does that make me?”

“Grateful?” Fusco answered.

“It makes me… unable to pay my debts!” she spat the answer. And in case the man was really thickheaded, she added: “It makes me unable to take care of my situations.”

“Or… ,” the brave detective immediately interjected, “… it makes it … the kind of teamwork situations need sometimes. You know, Shaw; like how _you_ took care of the Hannah situation _FOR_ Root, _without_ Root. You remember that, right?”

Shaw stared at him, but he knew, behind that death-like glare, she was taking that all in.

“You think about that, okay? _Accepting_ help… is as important as offering help, Shaw,” he said and was about to get up when Janine walked in.

Present in hand.

“I wanted to give you this back,” she said, not thinking because Zoe Morgan’s handiwork had pretty much taken her brain offline. “Thanks for letting me have it. It did the trick,” she said and then noticed they weren’t alone.

The wide eyed look on Fusco’s face clearing indicated he was confused.

“It’s Shaw’s,” Janine said, not wanting him to think it was hers.

“Are you sure Captain Crunch isn’t upset about _this_?” he wondered. Not getting an answer, and not wanting to be anywhere near his friend’s bra, Fusco took his leave.

“Tag,” he said to Janine, “… you’re it.”


	92. From Root's POV

Shaw grabbed the article of clothing that was still in her assistant’s hand. “Thanks,” she said and shoved it in her desk drawer.

“What’s going on?” Janine asked, concerned that she was the hand-off in the save Shaw relay race.

“What’s going on? What’s going on is your trick didn’t work. Well, I didn’t really need it,” Shaw thought out honestly, “…until I told her I didn’t … no, I couldn’t, take her money. Now, she’s got _that_ face on.”

“What face?” Janine asked.

“The one that says _I’m mad_ , but I’m planning something you won’t like, so I’m not going to tell you I’m mad,” Shaw said, falling back into her chair.

“You won’t take her money?” Janine asked and sat down.

“I can’t. It’s a lot of money. Two plus million dollars. I don’t have that kind of money. I can’t take that from Root. No, I won’t do it,” Shaw said, her feelings getting all tangled. “And she’s mad because I won’t.”

“Sure,” Janine said, not needing too long to think it over.

“Excuse me?” Shaw said, thinking it must be in her employee contract that she has to agree with her.

“Root probably feels what is hers, is yours, and you probably have some personal mantra that you always repay your debts and you have to pay your own way, blah, blah, blah,” Janine said.

“There is no blah, blah, blah in my… whatever you called it. Marines pay back marines; simple as that. I knew I was being taken, but that’s the price I agreed to,” Shaw barked defensively.

“Sounds pretty steep,” Janine pointed out.

“Well, it was the war, so I didn’t have time to negotiate better terms,” Shaw complained.

“And how is Root handling this?” the assistant asked.

“She’s making me come to a meeting in her office,” Shaw said.

“Ooh,” Janine responded, and it wasn’t what Shaw wanted to hear.

“She told me…,” Shaw shared hesitantly, “… we were going to … uhm, talk.”

“Oh,” she repeated, with a little more concern in her voice.

“And… to bring… my A-game,” Shaw finished.

“Oohh,” the woman grimaced.

“I don’t even know what my A game is!” Shaw bellowed. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing good,” Janine answered quickly.

“That’s a whole lotta help,” Shaw said sarcastically.

“You see the issue though, yes?” Janine said cautiously so as not to upset her boss.

“That Root is stubborn? Yes, but it’s really unlike her,” Shaw said.

“Let’s try it this way,” the thoughtful woman said and came closer in her chair to Sameen. “Root wants to help you, the way you help her.”

“I have never given her two million dollars,” Shaw pointed out.

“Is it the amount or the fact that she would be paying it?” Janine asked.

“It’s my debt; I have to pay it,” Shaw summed up.

“But you can’t pay it,” Janine pointed out.

“I could work out an installment plan,” Shaw quipped and her assistant whipped out her phone.

“Two plus million, at five percent let’s say, over ten years is …. Twenty six thousand, five hundred and sixteen dollars….”

“Okay, then,” Shaw said too quickly.

“A month,” the calculating woman added. “And Shaw?”

“What?” she barked.

“It’s almost ten o’clock,” the woman who got her boss to meetings on time said.

Sameen got up, looking very much like a woman who was about to go on a mission – perhaps one that the outcome was very uncertain.

“Please just listen to her,” Janine begged, not getting out of the doorway just yet. “That means, slow down and take in Root’s ideas and think them over, okay?”

“Sure,” Sameen said. She started to walk out, but went back for the donut bag, shoving the last one in her mouth in three bites. “UHN-er-gy,” she offered as her excuse.

“This is not going to go well,” Janine said, throwing her hands up to her face and wondering how she could help.

* * *

Sameen murmured to herself all the way up to Root’s office. She blamed the pain in her stomach on the stale donuts, when in fact, it was anxiety. But rarely ever experiencing that made it an unknown.

“I’m here!” Shaw said and saluted her wife as a joke, but they weren’t alone. In fact, there were several people sitting around the table, including Harold. Sameen assumed this was another of Root’s meetings, running late. Instead, Root came to her and kissed her hello and invited her to sit down.

“Who are these people?” Shaw asked, having never seen them, except for Harold.

In her most pleasant tone, Root went around the table, introducing each invited guest by name. Of the eight other people, the only thing Shaw heard was lawyer and accountant.

“Is this about my raise?” Shaw joked and no one, not a single person, cracked a smile. “What is this about?” she asked Root. “Suits make me not want to eat.”

Root took Shaw’s hand and for a second, Sameen felt the warmth and calmness that was always present in her wife. “I found a solution to your problem,” Root said.

Sameen looked around at the group and worried that now, nine other people knew she was in debt. “And they need to know… why?”

“Formalities, paperwork, that sort of thing,” Root answered.

One stodgy looking man, pencil thin, with a clear visible line of perspiration on his forehead, moved a very thick document in front of Shaw.

“Can I get the cliff notes on this?” she asked.

“You don’t have to read it all; they just need your signatures,” Root smiled pleasantly.

Shaw looked at her wife and then opened the book to the first page. “ _Transfer of assets,_ ” Shaw read out loud and then looked up again at the people there. Harold looked paler than usual and one woman gulped down an entire glass of water.  
“What does that mean?” Shaw turned to Root; the only one she trusted at the table.

“Well, Sweetie; you won’t use _our_ money, so I’ve decided to sign everything over to you. As of tomorrow, my shares in BEAR and all my assets will be in your name. Your name only.”

Shaw stared at Root to see when the punchline was coming, but all she got was Root’s smile. She looked at the first page again. “All assets in the amount of….,” Shaw read out loud and Root stopped her.

“That’s as of today; of course, it will be thousands more by tomorrow when it goes into your account. Isn’t that right, Mr. Lundgrum?”

Shaw looked at the pale man who nodded his head, but couldn’t speak. He had, like all of the people in that room, advised against this.

“You can’t do this,” Shaw said and closed the book.

“It’s done,” Root smiled.

“You nerds let her do this?” Shaw shouted at the people paid to protect her wife’s assets.

The room erupted in nine people speaking as one; each declaring that they had done their very best to talk her out of it.

“Well, forget it,” Shaw said, shoving the thick book back on the table. “I refuse.”

“You can’t,” Root shrugged her shoulders. “It’s already been done.”

“Then, I give it back,” Shaw countered and told the lawyers to draft new papers giving it back to Root.

“It’s irrevocable,” Root said, scrunching up her face apologetically. Harold actually let out a groan.

“Can I speak with my wife for a minute, please?” Shaw said, glaring at everyone. Nine people shot up from their seats and tried to exit the room at once; each one assuring the others that they tried like anything to point out this was not a sound business decision.

When the room was empty, Shaw turned back to Root. “Okay, okay; I get it. You geniuses are never subtle. I couldn’t take your money, so you’re giving it all to me so it’s my money to take. Very clever,” Shaw laughed.

Then, Root gave Sameen definite confirmation that she was upset.

“No, Sam; you’re mistaken,” she said, looking right at her.

“You… you only call me that when you’re mad,” Shaw stammered.

“What?” Root asked.

“ _Sam_ ; you never called me that. And you’re mad; I can tell. So, I know you only do that when you’re upset with me,” Shaw concluded correctly.

“Well, maybe,” Root said, swaying her head at being caught red-handed with that slip. “But that’s not what you’re mistaken about. You said you couldn’t take it. That’s not true, Sweetie. You won’t. There’s a big difference.”

Now, it was Shaw’s turn to eat crow. “Yes, Grammar Queen, I get it. My mistake. But why do you have to make such a big deal out of it?”

“Why? Because you’re in trouble, Sameen. And you won’t let me help you. And because you won’t accept that what I have is yours. And because you think because I’m not a marine, I couldn’t _possibly_ understand what a deep bond is….”

“Okay, I may have overstated that part,” Shaw said, hearing how it sounded now. “Of course you and I have a bond thing; deeper than any I’ve ever had; you know that.”

“Really, Sam?” Root asked sincerely.

“Yes, and stop calling me that,” Shaw said, thinking she had just slowed down the craziness of this situation.

She was sadly mistaken.

“I wish you had told me that… before I signed up for the Reserves, Shaw,” Root pointed out. “I start basic training on Monday.”

“WHAT?” Shaw shouted.

“I just want to understand what a _deep_ bond you marines have, so I signed up. I can only do Reserves, because of the age restriction,” Root explained calmly.

Shaw kept waiting for someone to pop out and announce that she had been punk’d … but no one was there.

“That’s insane,” she announced. “You know I didn’t mean…”

“No, you did, Sweetie. You said I couldn’t understand the bond marines have; and that our money was just mine. I just found a way to get around those things,” Root explained.

“So you…? What if I held a gun to my head, Root? Would you put one to yours?” Shaw shouted because NONE of this made sense to her.

“Yes; yes, I would,” Root answered truthfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: At first, I thought this might be too outlandish - even for Root - but she's driving home a point to Shaw and would go to any lengths to do so. Let me know what you think. Keep in mind, I've asked you to believe in Bear's story line - lol.


	93. The Point

Sameen stared back at her wife, trying to figure out what she could possibly be talking about. “You… you … can’t join the military!” she scoffed. “That’s ridiculous! You can’t just…”

“No, it was actually quite easy. It seems they’re very interested in having me on board for all kinds of technological developments,” Root countered.

“Okay, sure; but you wouldn’t leave Michael,” Shaw replied.

“Just for six weeks and you can visit me on weekends,” Root said matter-of-factly.

“Okay, _UNCLE_! Okay? I’ll say it; _Uncle_. Not your uncle, but just _uncle_. I give in,” Shaw said emphatically.

“Good, I’m glad,” Root smiled without an ounce of conceitedness that she got the unbendable Shaw to bend.

“Good, I’m glad,” Shaw repeated. “Now, where do I sign to put this all back?”

“Oh, you can’t do that, Sweetie,” Root said and her face was so adorably apologetic that it took everything Sameen had in her not to give in right there.

You could hear Shaw’s breathing as it quickened; all the time she was trying to come up with something that would prove how ridiculous this was. “So… so… ,” and finally, “… so I could go outside and fire every one of those nerds? Huh?” She was sure that would make Root react. Her face read – ‘ _didn’t that of that, did you!_ ’ … but of course, Root had.

“No,” she said, scrunching up her face sadly, “… Harry still controls 51 percent of the company.”

“You would make me work with… with … FINCH?” Shaw tried next.

“Well, _someone_ has to. I’ll be off at basic training,” Root reminded her.

Shaw had hit the last wall she could take!

“ROOT! Basic training is not like _Family & Friends Day_ at Saks. It’s hard work and it’s meant for …. for….”

“Younger people?” Root smiled, knowing the answer.

“Well, yes! And mothers who aren’t nursing,” Shaw pointed out.

“We’d have to freeze the milk,” Root explained, because even when her decisions were over the top, she thought things through.

It seemed to Sameen that for every good argument she made, Root was one step ahead. It was a testament to her wife’s brilliance, but at the moment, it was very annoying. Shaw had to dig deeper into her own bag of tricks. She sat back and thought about what life taught her growing up; what her medical training taught her; what her military career taught her; but then it came to her. Maybe because she was thinking of what Dr. Campbell would say if she were telling her – but it came to her like lightening.

She turned to stare at her wife.

“You can’t go! Root, I’m not kidding, I don’t think I can be without you for that long. I mean, I don’t think I can sleep unless I can feel your body curled up next to mine, your hand on my heart; feeling your breath. You have this annoying habit of putting her legs over mine and now, I can’t stand it when you don’t. Who will play with my hair or nudge me when there’s an entire room full of people, but I don’t know they’re there because you touch me? Who’s going to keep me from killing those dogs of yours? “

All very good points.

And Root was touched that Sameen could express such feelings because she knew they were deep and heartfelt.

“Your need for me is … wonderful, thank you,” Root expressed, a slight lump in her throat. “I need you, too. But, Sameen; I need you… to be my equal.”

‘ _God! When did she become so stubborn_?’ Sameen thought. And then, Shaw remembered how everyone explained to her how she helped Root, but couldn’t seem to let Root help her. ‘ _Dammit! How did this get to be about her, when it was clearly about Root!_ ’

“No one… look, Root…,” Shaw started and sat forward and took Root’s hands, “… growing up, people tried to be there for me. But, they couldn’t fill the void, the hole left by my parents. I shut them out and went it alone. I got used to that, preferred it really, because it kept my feelings at bay. I trust me to get me out of things. When I give my word, it means something and I can see why this is confusing because I gave my word to you, too,” she spoke out loud, confusing herself, but not Root. Feelings swirled around until they were able to push up words that would express what was going on. “I CAN’T BE DEPENDENT AGAIN, OKAY?”

Root stayed absolutely still, taking in all that Shaw had just unloaded. She, too, knew a thing or two about old wounds. She knew that new situations could inadvertently touch the deepest parts of us that remain tender, even years later. But Root also knew that healing only came from exposing those wounds and experiencing them, thereby allowing them to heal, an achingly little bit at a time.

“You are already dependent on me, Sweetie; by your declaration that you would miss me while I was away; by admitting you can’t sleep without touching me. Our lives are intertwined more than most people I know, and if that makes us dependent; well, that’s the price we pay for having the exquisite good fortune to have each other,” Root spoke softly.

Shaw sat there, watching, taking in all that she just heard.

Root continued: “And if you are my arrow? Maybe, I’m your bow. I don’t think there are two pieces of anything in the universe that belong together more than you and me. But either way, we deserve each other; I am certain of it,“ Root concluded.

It wasn’t just a sweet metaphor that Root picked to explain the equality. She specifically chose that image because she knew her wife would be comfortable with the weaponry symbol. An arrow cannot do what it is intended to do without its propulsion mechanism.

Shaw immediately looked at her tattoo on her arm. Root was dead-on! She had been thinking about this the wrong way. Root was the curve in her life that pushed her forward and farther than she would ever get on her own.

“You’re right, Root; you’re… so right,” Shaw said slowly. “I have spent more years doing things my way than our way; I lose sight of that sometimes.”

“Yes, I understand,” Root said, kissing Sameen’s hands. “What will we do now?” And by not laying out the solution, Root was really asking her partner to help her figure it out.

“The military does not take kindly to refusing their start dates, Root,” Shaw thought through. “But I have an idea.”

“And your debt?” Root asked because this is what started the whole thing.

“It would seem I just found out I am an incredibly wealthy woman,” Shaw said, still not comfortable.

“You want to pay them, even though, by all rights it’s extortion, yes?” Root asked to be sure.

“I agreed to it, Root,” Shaw explained.

“Okay then, you’ll pay them back; but only if we pay them together. I mean, you want to get a receipt for this sort of thing,” Root explained.

“I don’t think… a receipt?” Shaw asked, wondering how she would work that in.

“From what I can tell, your marine buddies are doing well for themselves. Frank had a driver, right? So, I’m digging into their businesses; you know, to make sure they’re on the up and up,” Root smiled.

“Root, I just want to pay them and be done with them,” Shaw offered.

“Sure, Sweetie; we’ll be done with them,” Root said and her tone was very confident. “So, how will we handle my deployment?”

“That’s… going to be hard, Root. I don’t think the Reserves issue takebacks,” Shaw explained.

“I’m only staying in long enough to get the tattoo,” Root smiled.

“What?” Shaw asked.

“I want the tattoo… like yours; to show I’m a marine. Because they have special bonds, you know,” Root reminded her wife.

“Okay, let’s list that as something I truly regret saying,” Shaw admitted.

“But you said it, so….,” Root smiled.

“You know that I have no deeper bond with anyone; anything, than with you,” Shaw explained, the way partners try after a blunder.

“Yes,” Root said, gently tugging on Shaw’s stray strand of hair, “… but, you meant something by it.”

Sameen stared at Root, not wanting to point out right now that she was incredibly stubborn. She’d save that for another time. Right now, she had to figure a way to get Root out of the Reserves.

“I’ll see what I can do about the Reserves, and you can work on what’s up with my buddies, okay?” Shaw proffered.

“You mean, like teamwork?” Root smiled.

“Yes, just like that,” Shaw said, smiling at being bested by the woman she loved.

Root kissed Sameen softly at first, but then kept leaning in because there was something about that woman she could never get enough of.

* * *

Feeling more settled, in spite of having to change her mind, Sameen returned to her office. She still had some contacts in the higher ranks, but it wasn’t going to be easy to ask a favor of people she had almost certainly insulted.

Yeah, only for Root would Shaw … grovel.

There was an ugly shirt and a bowling ball in a case in Shaw’s office when she returned. “What… is that?”

“Detective Fusco said he would meet you at the bowling alley at six,” Janine read from a paper.

“There is no way in hell…,” Shaw started, but her assistant continued reading.

“And if you say that…. _there is no way in hell you’re coming_ , I should remind you that you agreed to this and you can’t go back on your word. And… you will be home in plenty of time to do … whatever it is you do.” Janine put the paper down and smiled. “Do you need shoes, too?”

Giving her word was starting to bug the hell out of Shaw.


	94. Getting What You Ask For

Sameen finally came around to appreciate that she had something to do that night. In the noisy bowling alley, she could think through how to handle Root’s situation. Wearing a scoop neck, sleeveless black t-shirt, she walked into the place, causing all kinds of heads to turn.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Fusco said, the tournament on the line. Every fellow police officer’s gaze was on his friend. “Where’s your shirt?” he asked, but Shaw wasn’t going to be caught dead in it.

“What do you think fellas?” Shaw said, turning purposely towards the gaping stares. “Shirt or no…?”

“NO SHIRT; she doesn’t need the shirt, Fusco,” they explained in unison.

Shaw smiled and shook her shoulders. “So predictable,” she whispered to Fusco.

“Listen; no calling us _losers_ ,” he spoke the first rule. “Unless we lose, but we shouldn’t cause we have a really good team.”

“Sure, Fusco, sure,” Shaw said and greeted the other bowlers; most of whom she knew from the precinct.

In between strikes, Shaw picked the cops brains about military service; since a lot of them had served. No one had an idea of how to get around this particular problem. “Wait, you served in the Bravo Battalion, right?” one asked because in spite of Fusco never admitting it, he bragged about his friend quite a bit. They’d all heard the stories.

“Yeah,” Shaw said.

“Major Davenport your CO?” he asked.

“I guess,” Shaw said, because her military life was so long ago.

“He’s here; in New York. Maybe you could get to see him,” Fusco’s fellow cop suggested.

Sameen didn’t have to worry. She hadn’t even noticed the group of BEAR employees with the _TEAM SHAW_ logo on their T-shirts. And of course, she was too preoccupied to hear their cheering with each strike. “What’s his name?” Janine asked, rushing up to her boss with her phone already set to search. “David Davenport?” Janine asked, accessing the information.

“I have no ….,” Shaw was responding when Janine read he was appearing at a conference on modern military strategies and mindfulness.

“ _Mindful_ …what?” Shaw asked, those two things seemingly contradictory. “I seriously doubt that he would…,” Shaw was saying, when Janine put her finger in her ear and walked outside so she could hear the person on the other end of the line. If anyone was going to get her boss into meeting with her former commanding officer, it was Janine.

“Okay, please get one more strike so we can win this thing and go home,” Fusco asked and Shaw did what she did best. No, the _other_ thing – she showed her true competitive nature and won.

They handed the newest member of the team the trophy and celebrated their win. By this time, Janine was tugging at Sameen’s hand to pull her from the crowd.

“Let’s go,” Janine said, and only then did Shaw notice her t-shirt.

“ _Team Shaw_?” Sameen asked as if the woman hadn’t worn similar items to almost every public even Shaw was involved in.

“Major Davenport will see you in a half hour. We have to go,” Janine insisted.

“Are you kidding?” Shaw asked, but the woman’s expression told her no.

“Not staying to celebrate your victory, Shaw?” Fusco asked, when she started to go.

“I have to go… I have to get Root out of the Reserves,” Shaw said and Fusco nodded.

“It’s always something with those two,” he said to anyone within earshot.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Shaw arrived at the hotel where the Major was staying. Shaw had just enough time to explain to her assistant why it was so urgent to see him. Janine was, to say the least, surprised that Root had taken such drastic measures.

“She must _really_ want you to understand,” she assessed correctly.

“Yeah,” Shaw agreed.

“Do you have any idea if this guy will help you?” Janine asked.

“I have a feeling… if he does… it will come with a hefty price,” Shaw admitted. She hadn’t left on the best terms the last time she was with the man. In fact, he told her in no uncertain terms, he could have her court martialed. And that if he ever saw her again, he might just initiate that threat.

“Maybe he’s forgotten some of it?” Janine hoped and began praying. “I can’t go home without you, Shaw. Root would never forgive me.”

Shaw’s laugh was an uncomfortable one, because she was almost certain the man was probably looking forward to this – and not in a good way.

You wouldn’t have known that from the greeting he extended his former charge. It was boisterous and warm, as he yelled out her name as soon as he saw her and extended his hand to them both.

“Well, I’ll be!” he said, looking at Sameen. “I heard stories about you, Shaw; and not one of them mentioned you doing as well as you seem to be doing now. In fact, most of them said you looked like hell.”

“Yeah, well I… lucked out…,” Shaw smiled and he raised his eyebrow; clearing waiting for her to finish with the appropriate salutation. Shaw looked at him, trying to figure out what the holdup was. Then, it dawned on her. “Sir?”

His smile confirmed she guessed correctly.

“So, my assistant tells me your wife joined the Reserves,” the tall man said, and motioned for them to sit down at a table in the bar in the hotel.

“Yeah, about that…,” Shaw started.

“She’s having second thoughts,” Janine blurted out.

“Who has second thoughts about joining the Marines?” the man asked perplexed.

The idea that he thought this was a preposterous thing, meant it was going to be high stakes for Shaw to get him to cooperate. She explained that her wife had admirable intentions, but that her talents could be utilized without actually having to go through six weeks of basic training. Janine was catching on quickly and pointed out that that those six weeks would, in fact, delay the military having access to Root’s brilliant ideas.

Perhaps the fact that the man was at a conference on how mindfulness could be an asset to the military, gave him pause to consider this dilemma. He stared at his former marine as he thought it over. Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. He ordered another round of two scotches and white wine and leaned in slowly. “You know what it will take, Shaw. You know what I want,” he said and sat back.

There was _nothing_ about that declaration that Janine liked. She looked at the smuggest look on his face, and then to the look of dread on Sameen’s. “Wait… a… gosh…darn… minute!” she said, sitting tall in her seat.

“ _Who_ says that?” is what Shaw wondered out loud, but her friend had crossed her arms and was staring down the man who towered over her.

“She’s not going anywhere with you!” Janine snapped. For a second, she considered what price the major was asking. She knew Sameen might be tempted to do almost anything for Root.

The man burst out laughing. “You want to tell her, Shaw; or should I?”

“Can’t we do anything else…?” Shaw asked, but he shook his head.

“I’ll be here only a couple of days, Shaw. You know the price. You agree, and I’ll reduce your wife’s training schedule,” Major Davenport said.

“Fine! Fine!” Shaw barked, and saw his victorious expression. “Sir!”

“Good,” the man said, draining his glass. “Oh, and Shaw?”

“What?” Shaw snapped. “Sir?” she added when he waited.

“Full dress, Shaw,” he smiled and she could hear him laughing as he left.

Considering Janine was expecting something unseemly, this confused her. “What does full dress mean?” she asked.

“It means…,” Shaw said, her head falling down in disgust, “… full uniform.”

* * *

Michael watched with interest as Root explained what she was doing. “So, it seems these ‘associates’ of Mommy’s all work for a company called – Investor Plex. They work with wealthy investors, often soliciting for some major charities. Last year, they made large donations to several legitimate causes and one that I can’t seem to find. My guess is that it’s a shell; and they’re really paying themselves. I bet that’s where they want to put Mommy’s debt. Which works out, because then we’ll get to write off the sum as a charitable contribution. And then, out accountants will want proof of the charity, which they won’t be able to provide,” Root explained as she tapped keys to access the trail of money in Frank’s business.

Michael yelled a long screech.

“I know, it’s very mean of them. Mommy was saving a lot of people by her actions, Michael. She’s really a hero. But, she accepted those conditions, and she’s a woman of her word. That’s important, honey,” Root explained, gazing down at her baby daughter.

Michael listened carefully and bellowed again.

“Don’t worry, Sweetie; Mommy and I are going to take care of them,” Root smiled devilishly.

Root turned back to the screen and pressed the zoom in button. The Machine had provided her the camera footage and sound of Frank in his car with Sameen. Root listened to the playback.

_“Your word used to mean something, Shaw. I mean, there was a time when all you would offer a fellow marine was your word. You never gave anything else, am I right?” he asked of Sameen’s refusal to ever use her body to get what she wanted._   
_“I have a wife who will kill you for less than what you just said,” Shaw said._

“Yes, she does, Frank; yes, she does,” Root smiled at the screen.


	95. Teamwork at its Finest

When Sameen returned home, she found Root and Michael sleeping on the couch. Gently kissing both of them, she carried her daughter upstairs; followed by a very sleepy Root. She wanted to update Sameen, but Shaw told her it could wait until morning.  
Each told the other what they had planned over breakfast the next morning. Root’s plan was methodical and she listed the steps they needed to take. “So, we’ll go to Frank’s office; present him with the payment and ask how to wire the money; then, we’ll let our lawyers do the rest!” she announced proudly.

“And that’s it?” Shaw said, because it sounded so simple.

“Well…,” Root smiled coyly, “… I might need a minute or two with Frank.”

Shaw stared, but of course, had no idea what her wife was talking about. Her own plan was more vague than definite. “So, I know a guy…,” Shaw said, before shoving scrambled eggs and bacon into her mouth so the rest of what she said was incoherent. “And so… I’m waiting to hear.”

“Oh, good,” Root smiled, only getting the last part. “Let’s go see Frank,” she said enthusiastically.

* * *

Sameen texted Frank and said they wanted to meet with him. He was more than happy to accommodate the request and suggested his office on Lexington Avenue. From all appearances, Frank and his fellow marines ran a legitimate investing company. But Root was about to expose what lie underneath that exterior.

Sameen walked into his office; her demeanor clearing showing how annoyed she was. Root, on the other hand, was dressed to the nines and her affect was more like a long awaited social call. She couldn’t have been sweeter.

“I have heard so little about you,” was how Root greeted the man who was immediately taken with her.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you’re here,” Frank openly admitted. “A woman of your stature? I was concerned that you wouldn’t want to get your hands dirty with this mess.”

“You have no idea what I’d like to do with my hands,” Root said in such a sweet voice, that both Sameen and Frank twisted to look at her.

“Well, I’m glad we came to an understanding,” Frank smiled and Sameen had yet to. “She drove a hard bargain back then,” he retold, as he accessed his computer file.

“Yeah, right,” Shaw spat in disgust.

“Look, Shaw, don’t get me wrong. I admire what you did; risking your neck like that. But, we were there to make the best of a situation, too.”

“Sounds like you were making the best of it for yourselves,” Shaw pointed out.

“Well, we did tell you the terms,” Frank reminded her. “So, this is how this is going to go. I’m sure you realize we can’t just put a two million dollar deposit into our account without some explanation,” he said, going where Root hoped he would. “… so we’ve set up a charitable foundation that handled these sort of collections.”

“Of course,” Root smiled. “Very smart.”

“I’m sure BEAR does not account for every dollar; am I right?” Frank laughed.

“If you just give us the routing and bank account number, we’ll have it wired now,” Root said, holding her phone and waiting.

“You know what I’m going to do, Shaw? Cause I always liked you? I’m going to round it down…,” Frank was saying, but Shaw leaned over and wrapped her hand around the letter opener on his desk. Root slowly put her hand out and took her wife’s off the blade.

“I think Sameen would like to settle this,” Root smiled.

Frank nodded and gave her the information. Shaw stared at him the whole time, until Root handed her the phone to authorize payment. Shaw looked down and pressed send. She shot up out of her chair. “That concludes me ever having to do anything with you, Frank.”

“It’s been a pleasure, Shaw. And remember, it’s just business,” he assured her. He stood up, but Sameen was already walking out.

Root was fiddling with her phone to give her wife time to leave. “Now, I’d like to address this,” Root said pleasantly and replayed the video of what he said in the car.

“How the hell did you? Hey, I just meant…,” he was saying, when Root pulled out her taser and zapped him in the neck. “I’ll be sure to give Shaw your apology,” she said, as Frank dropped straight down behind his desk.

“Did you just…?” Shaw asked, turning to see his disappearance act.

“No one talks to you that way and gets away with it,” Root declared, taking time to kiss her wife.

That pure display of aggression was a turn on to Shaw. She looked back and heard Frank groaning in pain. Then, she looked up at her wife who was very definite about her statement. “You… are so hot,” Shaw said, forgetting where she was.

That short statement lit the even shorter fuse on Root. “Do you really think so?” Root asked, her shoulder rising as she twisted back and forth. She grabbed Sameen’s hand and pulled her in to kiss her again. “Let’s do it in my office,” she whispered.

* * *

Root’s secretary never took her eyes off the computer, even though she heard things flying around the room after the door slammed. She repeated more than once to anyone who called or approached the desk; “Ms. Groves is unavailable at the moment. I’ll have her get back to you.”

“Maybe _you_ should be the bodyguard,” Sameen laughed as the two women shed their clothes in a pile by the couch.

“Darlin’, I’ll guard that body any day,” Root countered, before pulling Sameen down on top of her on the couch. “No one gets to say things to you, Shaw. No one.”

Shaw smiled down into those fiery light brown eyes that were hell bent on defending her honor. She had never allowed anyone to openly stand up for her. But when Root did it, it absolutely touched her.

Sameen’s touches weren’t gently, but that excited Root even more. Shaw’s gratitude came from a deep place, not often accessed, as she demonstrated to her wife how much she appreciated her standing up for her.

“OH GOD YES, SHAAAAWWWW!” came the cry as Root teetered on the verge of a full body explosion.

It took several minutes before Root could speak without gasping, but when she could, she noted: “I’m going to miss this a lot when I’m away. Do they have conjugal visits in boot camp?”

“No, which is another reason why I’m hoping to get your sentence reduced,” Shaw noted, as the woman reluctantly redressed.

“How are you going to manage that?” Root asked.

“Painfully,” Shaw murmured, but didn’t want to give it away until it was absolutely necessary.

* * *

Shaw went to her office where, as she expected, her trusty assistant had procured everything she needed to get this over with.

“Major Davenport said this evening at six o’clock at his hotel,” Janine reported as she watched Sameen look at the dress uniform pieces, displayed in her office. “I asked him what he intended to do, Shaw, and he said to be prepared for anything. What is he going to do?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s going to _stick it to me,_ ” Shaw said, shaking her head. “I’ll wrap this up and take it with me. I’ll change there and meet him at the bar and get this over with….”

“He said, he wants you to bring Root…,” Janine relayed.

“No!” Shaw balked.

“And Michael,” she added.

“Is he insane? I’m not bringing …. No!” Shaw barked.

“He said if you refuse, the deal is off,” Janine said in a tiny voice.

She gritted her teeth, and shook her head, but she knew she had to go through with this his way. “Tell him I want it reduced to one week! Five days,” Shaw demanded and Janine got right on the phone.

The Major laughed at how obstinate his former marine was and shared that it was exactly what happened last time he wanted to do this. “You tell Special Ops Captain Shaw that she will report to me as prescribed and agreed to. The marines do not take people backing out of boot camp lightly and the price for doing so is steep. It has been my experience that Shaw needs things repeated a couple of times before she gets it,” he said, and now there was impatience in his voice.

“He said be there at six,” Janine said, poking her head back into Shaw’s office. “In full dress.”

“I hope you got me pants to go with this?” Shaw barked and Janine said that she had.

“I couldn’t see you in those women’s shoes,” Janine explained.

Shaw grabbed her phone and called Root. She drew a deep breath and explained they had to go meet with her former commanding officer. “He said he’d help us,” Shaw said, leaving the conditions off. “Okay, I’ll be here.”

Shaw hung up and did a double take at her assistant staring at her. “What?” she asked.

“You’re going to put that uniform on and expect Root to just come in here and see you?” she asked, looking around as if the room wasn’t big enough.

“Yes?” Shaw answered.

“You’re going to be in this uniform? And you think Root can just take that in? In here? No, no; you can’t do that to her!” Janine explained. “Do you know what a woman in uniform does to people?”

Shaw would have protested, but her assistant was already helping her undress and reading the blue jacket, white shirt and blue pants.

“Oh, my God,” she said, turning to her boss with the white accessory in her hand. “SUSPENDERS?”


	96. An Officer and a Gentlewoman

Sameen had absolutely _no_ idea what her assistant was so worked up about. “Stop!” Shaw commanded when the woman easily applied the suspenders and ran them between her fingers.

“Do you know what these would look like with just some…?” Janine fantasized and then realized Shaw was glaring at her. “Oh, God,” she caught herself, “… not you.”

Sameen stared over at the flushed faced woman. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s too bad, Shaw,” Janine said, truthfully. “…but, you’re going to by tomorrow.”

Shaw shook her head and her hands at the woman to unhand her. “There is nothing pleasant about wearing this uniform,” Sameen admitted. “Look how _tight_ …,”

“I know,” Janine interjected, noticing how the pants hugged her curves.

“And it is so _fitted_ …,” Shaw continued to criticize.

“Yes, I can see that,” Janine responded as her boss wiggled into the jacket.

“And look what it looks like here!” Shaw added, because the belt only served to accentuate the fullest part of her chest. 

“God, yes!” Janine said, because she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her boss look so sensational.

“Do I _look_ comfortable?” Sameen whined as Janine’s hands buttoned the jacket all the way up.

“You look… amazing,” Janine said as Shaw continued to question what she was talking about. “Stay,” she then said to her boss because she had to do something.

“I can hardly move,” Shaw exaggerated.

Janine picked up her phone and called upstairs to Root’s assistant. “A cold clothe and some ice; yes; that’s right. And tell her she might want to be sitting when we come up.”  
Janine returned as Shaw was pulling her hair back so she could wear the uniform cap.

“You’re going to kill her,” she blurted out.

“I’m going to kill you, if you don’t stop,” Shaw blurted back.

“Let’s go; and for God’s sake, go slowly when you walk in. She needs some time to take that all in,” Janine warned. If there was any doubt that she was absolutely right, the expression on people’s faces as they made their way upstairs only confirmed it for Janine.

“Wow!” Ayala said and even saluted her sister out of respect for her rank. “Different armies, but hey, looking good.”

“Nice,” Martine said and patted Shaw on the back.

“I’m being made to,” Shaw tried, but people were too focused on how good she looked. She was just grateful Fusco and Reese were not around.

Yet.

* * *

For a woman in uniform, whose insignia cleared depicted her rank; Shaw was certainly being bossed around. “Stay here,” Janine said and made her stand outside Root’s office. “You can’t spring _that_ …,” she said, waving her finger up and down the length of Sameen’s body, “… on her.”

“Just…,” Shaw pleaded, feeling like quite the spectacle as people passed.

“Ms. Shaw?” Finch said, because he believed in formal titles at work and didn’t use her married name, except at formal occasions outside of work.

“Yeah?” Shaw said.

“You look… quite nice,” Harold said.

“Thanks, they’re making me,” Shaw said, as if anyone questioned it. She felt it was a cruel twist of fate that so many people were crossing paths with her. “What is _she_ doing in there?” Shaw asked, trying to peer through the frosted glass without success.

* * *

What _she_ was doing in there was saving Root’s life.

“I want you to be as prepared as you can be for this,” Janine said, and walked her boss to the couch slowly.

“Prepared for…?” Root asked as she followed her lead.

“There are no words for what you are about to see. Except, maybe; wow!” Janine said and when Root was seated, she went and opened the door.

“Slowly,” she cautioned Sameen, who stared at her as she walked past her, towards Root.

Root didn’t know what to expect, but seeing her wife decked out in full marine dress attire was not it. It was almost too much for her to take in all at once. It would have been better if Janine had shown her pictures of what the uniform consisted of, so Root could have imagined it first. But, seeing it in its entirety and in the flesh …. was breath taking.

“Oh…my…,” but that was all Root got out before her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she thought she’d pass out. The room was silent, except for the audible gasps Root was taking – which was going to lead to her hyperventilating any second. “I… can’t…,” and the next word should have been _breathe_ , but she really meant it.

Shaw ran at top speed, and was bending down on her knees, in front of Root in a second’s time. “Okay, it’s okay,” Shaw said and looked around for something. A paper bag from the lunch delivery was on the coffee table and Sameen grabbed it. “Put this over your mouth,” she said and helped Root do it. “Okay, slowly now,” Shaw instructed and held Root’s gaze as her breathing finally evened out. “It’s okay; I’m right here,” Sameen assured her smiling.

“I think _that’s_ the problem,” Janine whispered to herself. She ran and got the ice water and cool clothe as she requested. Root was so dazed that she allowed the woman to put it on her neck; it felt good against the fever she suddenly felt surging in her body.

“Sameen?” Root said, when she could finally speak again.

“I know, right?” Shaw said, but then noticed the glassy eyed look as Root’s hand reached out to touch the insignias above her left breast pocket.

“You’re …,” Root said, touching the rank on her arm.

“… Very annoyed, but this is what it’s going to take,” Shaw huffed. “Are you okay?”

Root’s expression turned to giddy when she looked over at a very understanding Janine and gushed; “My wife’s a marine.”

“You haven’t even seen the suspenders,” Janine said under her breath.

“So, Davenport is making me…,” Shaw was trying to explain when Root regained a little composure and pulled Shaw in hard to kiss her, sending her cap flying off her head.

Sameen instinctively put her hand out on Root’s chest to brace herself and could feel the quickness of her heartbeat. “Woot?” she said, after a full minute of her wife kissing her. “Areyuokay?”

“God, how could she be?” Janine answered for her boss.

Root loosened her lips and grip on Sameen enough to allow oxygen to return to both of them. “I fantasized about you in this, but never did I realize how damn sexy you’d be IN it. Mostly, I imagined you sort of out of it.”

“Okay, TMI,” Shaw smiled because they weren’t alone.

“Wait till you see the suspenders,” Janine echoed, but this time it was out loud.

Small fires lit in Root’s brown eyes as they widened. She looked up at Janine, her expression clearly indicating that would be a cruel joke if it weren’t true. Janine would never do such a thing and to make sure Root knew that, she said; “They’re white.”  
And then as if they didn’t think the younger woman was already too involved, she declared; “I have to get a pair of those.” The woman whipped out her phone and immediately went to Amazon. “Pink,” she said, scrolling down the choices.

“We need to go,” Shaw announced and pulled Root up after she stood up.

“I hope I can walk,” Root admitted. Her hands kept touching Shaw’s jacket, adorned with insignia and badges. “She was in special ops,” she all but giggled to Janine.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, never having heard anyone gush over that fact.

* * *

Major David Davenport had never encountered anyone like Sameen Shaw in all his years in the marines. When he reflected back over his multi-decade career, he had very few regrets. And he was about to make sure one of them was removed from that list that night.

Root and Sameen made their way to the hotel. Azar was happy to bring Michael, never once sharing that she had already received a call, inviting her to the event. In fact, her sister and Martine, Reese and Joss, Fusco and yes, even Iris, had received invitations. Even Genrika was coming there straight from school.

“Don’t let her see anyone or I’ll have to shoot her to stop going AWOL,” Major Davenport instructed his staff.

The man was not surprised when he greeted the guest of honor, her wife and her overzealous assistant; that Shaw clearly announced; “Okay, this is how this is going to go.” Root admired that her wife felt she was in charge, but one look at the man who towered over her and she grew suspicious that this was one time; Shaw was going to be sadly mistaken.

“Are you speaking to me, Captain Shaw?” Major Davenport asked, leaning in to clearly indicate he outranked her.

Shaw let out a frustrated sigh. “O…kay,” she started as if she was being made to play along,” … this is how this is going to go…. Sir!”

The man looked over at Root sympathetically. “You have got your hands full,” he said.

“Oh, I’m really counting on that,” Root replied back.

“Shaw, need _I_ remind _you_ that _you_ came to _me_ asking for _my_ help?” he said, emphasizing each of those pronouns. “And that I managed to get your wife out of six weeks of basic training; an unheard of feat in the history of the US Marine Corps? And that I gave you the terms of this arrangement?”

“Not exactly,” Shaw reminded him.

“Do you wish to cancel this right now, Captain Shaw?” he asked, in a very stern, no-nonsense voice.

“No! No, sir,” Shaw acquiesced. “No, I do not.”

“Then, I suggest your wife join the _others_ and you follow me. And whoever you are, I suggest you strap yourself in a chair and do not move,” he said, specifically to Janine.

He may have been giving the orders, but it wasn’t until Shaw nodded her head, did Janine move. Then, she turned to Root and took her hands. “It’s okay. Whatever this is, we can handle it,” she assured her wife.  
Root kissed her and looked back at Davenport and walked out with Janine.

“ _What others_?” Shaw and Root asked at the very same time.

Janine shrugged her shoulders as they followed one of Davenport’s staff out of the room. That left the major to answer his underling.

“Oh, Shaw; you’re about to face what I imagine to be one of the toughest assignments you’ve ever had,” he laughed for the first time.

Shaw glared up at him with defiance.

“And you’re going to have to be quiet throughout. Now, I’m not an overly religious man, Shaw, but _that_ might just qualify as a miracle!”


	97. Paying it Forward

Sameen watched as the Major waited until her wife and _self-appointed_ bodyguard left the room. “You know, I feel I should warn you, my wife will jump up from her seat and… do something,” she chose instead of saying how handy Root was with a tazer. “You know, if you pull anything.”

David Davenport looked down at the woman who stood out over his long career in the military. No one he _ever_ encountered came _close_ to causing him more aggravation. Not one other soldier stuck in his side like this five-foot four thorn. He was going to enjoy this. “You _could_ have made a great marine, Shaw,” was his first declaration to test the water.

He smiled when she snapped back;

“I AM a great marine!”

He was actually glad to hear that. Only diehards insisted they were marines for life. That made this spontaneous event all the sweeter.

“I almost wish you could do the basic training with your wife,” he mused.

“Are we going to do something here?” Sameen asked impatiently.

“Here? No, not here,” the Major smiled. “But in there, we are.” Then, the man waited for his staff to open the door and he walked through. He wasn’t at all surprised that the guest of honor was still standing in the other room, thinking over her choices. “You are testing me, Shaw,” he warned her.

_Sameen wasn’t doing it to be defiant. She was wondering if she explained to Root that whatever this man was about to do, it was worth the price for having her boot camp reduced. She wasn’t entirely sure in her haste to make a point, if Root really looked into what this ordeal was like. The entire course is set up to break your individuality and remake you into a Marine. It’s a six week regiment that is mentally and physically draining._

“SHAW!”

Sameen just hoped Root would not find anything the man, who was reveling in this moment, did, was offensive. Or all hell would break loose.

Sameen followed her former commanding officer and watched as he appeared to walk out to a podium.

“Oh, geez,” she grimaced and then noticed the long line of soldiers standing on either side of her, waiting for her to pass. She had forgotten how serious they were, especially about pageantry. She drew a deep breath, put her cap back on and pulled down hard on her jacket. Then, she stood straight and walked through the procession, where each man and woman slowly saluted her as she passed them.

Davenport, she decided, was going to get back at her for every transgression she’d ever committed.

* * *

“Fellow officers, family and friends, please rise,” someone announced and four marines holding the flags walked out onto the stage.

Shaw knew she had to go along with this, and so, she slowly walked out behind them. Lights overhead blinded her as she followed them on stage. Sameen looked into the audience, but couldn’t tell who was in the darkened room.

“Please be seated,” someone asked and Shaw heard what sounded like several chairs being pulled back.

“Captain Shaw,” Major Davenport said and pointed to a seat on the stage.

“ _What is all this_?” Sameen mouthed to him, but a raised eyebrow told her to do as she was asked.

It had been years since she sat down in a uniform like the one she had on. Everything about it was uncomfortable to her. It was tight and restricting, which was pretty much the way Sameen had viewed the military. And yet, she needed it and wanted it when she was there. The course that broke so many, only made a young Private Shaw dig her heels in deeper. It was her pigheadedness that often caused the problems, but it was also what made her who she was.

“Thank you for coming,” Major Davenport began. “The marine warrior philosophy, handed down over many years of service, is a life of integrity, loyalty, honor, selflessness, and courage; while you serve and through your whole life. It has been my deepest privilege to serve in this military for the last forty-five years. I will leave the corps at the end of this year…,” he said and stopped for the spontaneous applause, “… and would have done so with only one regret, until today.”

Sameen’s jaw tightened as she wondered what he was up to.

“Something happened many years ago that took me a long time to understand. One of my soldiers, who had performed her duties with these qualities in the battlefield, refused the acclamation she so richly deserved. There wasn’t one person, including myself, that thought this was an appropriate action on her part,” he continued.

‘ _So, this was it!_ ’ Sameen thought. ‘ _He’s going to admonish me for embarrassing him for not taking that medal_!’

Root listened carefully, as she held Michael. When she realized that the man had invited all of her wife’s friends to this room, she decided it was for something good and not punitive. She wished Sameen could relax up there, instead of anticipating that it would be something bad. But that was so Shaw; always expecting life to pull the rug out from under her.

“I asked all of you here today because I decided I wanted to be surrounded by people who know just how frustrating it can be to work with this woman,” Davenport said, lightening the mood. Everyone laughed in response, _except_ one person.

Michael didn’t care for the very tall man with the boisterous voice – talking about her mother. She let out a loud, very determined scream directed right at him.

“And now we know who she takes after,” the man teased and there was more laughter and applause.

“Mrs. Shaw-Groves, would you do us the honor of joining us up here with young Michael, or as we like to say- the future recruit,” the man said.

“Do you want to see Mommy?” Root said as an officer accompanied her up the short staircase to the stage.

Sameen stood up and watched the expression on Michael’s face as she took the sight of her mother in.

“Doesn’t Mommy look beautiful?” Root asked Michael, who put her arms out to Sameen to be held. Shaw took Michael in her arms as their friends ooo’d and aww’d at what a wonderful sight this was.

Iris slipped Fusco another tissue; he had been sniffling since Shaw walked out in uniform. Zoe put her arm around Janine, who openly wept at her boss holding the baby. Genrika put on a brave face, but slipped her hand into Grace’s and held it tight. Joss noticed that Reese cleared his throat, more than once and allowed her to take his hand. Ayala stared up at her sister and turned quickly to Martine. “I want that,” she openly admitted. A slow smile appeared on the stoic’s face. “Me, too,” she answered.  
Azar beamed, as she looked at her daughter, her daughter-in-law, and her granddaughter.

“Back to business,” Davenport said, quieting everyone down. “I was in charge of a great many soldiers in my time. Not one of them ever performed to the standard Sameen Shaw set for herself. And while it was admirable, it also meant she bucked the system in ways that were not good for her career. Like the time she saved an entire platoon of men and women, but refused her Medal of Honor. Now, I don’t mind telling you, it took me a very long time to understand how someone could refuse the highest honor the Marines can bestow on a soldier. But then, I followed this woman’s career and slowly began to get it. Captain Shaw operates under her own philosophy, while still maintaining those marine values.”

While Shaw was patiently listening to her life in review, she was wishing her former CO would get to the part where he exacted his cost for the bargain she struck with him.

And, then he did.

“In another incident, this woman risked her life to save forty-six women and children, by getting them safely across a border that, although the US maintained, they were under constant siege. Captain Shaw made sure all of these families were safely across the border. She didn’t realize it at the time, but those individuals, not only got out alive, but one of them was a doctor. Many months after her heroic actions, another platoon came under heavy fire in a neighboring town. The medic was badly wounded and without any other medical personnel, most of the wounded marines were doomed. But there was a woman in that village, who another marine had helped, who came to us. It turned out, that woman was a doctor. She not only saved the lives of several wounded, she saved mine,” he explained. “If Sameen Shaw had not gotten that woman across the border to safety, I know I would not be standing here right now. I truly believe that doctor helped us… to pay the kindness she was given… forward.”

Now, tears streamed down Root’s face, as Michael leaned over and kissed Shaw’s cheek. Root put her hand on Sameen’s leg and squeezed it.

“Geez,” Shaw said, because she had no idea her actions that night were so personal to her fellow marine.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I missed out once seeing this woman receive the medal she so richly deserved. That wasn’t going to happen twice in my career. Captain Shaw, if you would, please?” he asked and Sameen handed Michael back to Root and stood up.

“Mrs. Shaw-Groves, would you please join your wife up here?” he asked and now Root stood next to Shaw, holding their daughter.

“This medal is usually given by the President of the United States,” Davenport explained, “…but when I realized you might go AWOL on me, Shaw; I received special permission to present it myself.”  Then, the man turned to the officer holding the blue ribbon, five star gold medal.

“Captain Shaw, on behalf of the US Marine Corp, and all the citizens of the United States, for whom you so valiantly fought for in combat, and for the duty you carried out, above and beyond the utmost merits, with grace and valor, we present you with the highest decoration of… the Medal of Honor.”

With that, the man pinned the medal to Shaw’s jacket, as she stood perfectly still at attention. He stepped back and slowly, saluted the woman whose act of bravery had, in turn, saved his life.

Shaw could feel the tightness in her chest as emotions bucked up against her military stoicism. She raised her right hand and slowly saluted the man back.

Michael grabbed Root’s tear stained cheeks, aware of the heightened emotions. “You mommy is a hero, Michael. A real hero.”

Only after the mutual saluting was done, did everyone stand and applaud their friend. Shaw shook hands with the man she had tested all those years and thanked him. She should have realized the selfless man would do something this gracious.

* * *

Sameen exchanged hugs with her family and friends, all who accepted the last minute invitation for their friend.

Shaw put her hat on Michael’s head, and the child all but disappeared. Root laughed when she saw the baby’s expression as she stared up at Shaw, smiling.

The guests were treated to dinner and Shaw enjoyed the steak that tasted very familiar to her. “I told him you were very particular about your food,” Root whispered and winked.

Well, she did that facial contortion thing that she _thought_ was a wink.

“That’s one of the first things we’re going to work on in your training,” Shaw announced.

“The marines are going to teach me to wink?” Root asked.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? There’s a little mini-boot camp before you leave next week. And I’m in charge,” Shaw gloated.

It was supposed to intimidate her wife; but she forgot what role playing did to her. “It’s not role playing, Root. I am in charge of getting you ready.”

“You had me at … you’re in charge, Sweetie,” Root cooed.

* * *

As the crowd chatted over dinner, it was Zoe who first commented that Janine did a great job of not saying what this was all about.

“Sorry for holding you in suspenders,” Janine commented.

“In…? You mean… _suspense_?” Zoe asked.

“Yes, isn’t that what I said?” Janine asked.

“No, you said… suspenders…,” Zoe laughed.

“Oh, yes… suspenders,” Janine said, checking her phone to see if her order had arrived. They guarantee two hour delivery in Manhattan. “We should go soon.”


	98. Runs in the Family

As the hours wore on, Sameen became more comfortable with being in the limelight. Even her old marine buddy, Alex Fitzpatrick was there to congratulate her. Joss Carter teased her that now that she was decorated, maybe the Army would consider her application. Fusco could hardly get out words, so he just grabbed her and put her in a bear hug. It always made Iris smile to see these two friends express so much without using words. “You’re hurting me,” Shaw finally uttered and he let go; giving her a hard pat on both arms before leaving.

Reese was less verbal, but just as direct. “Shaw,” he said, he tone filled with admiration for his friend. “Reese,” Shaw responded; her tone clearing indicating how much she appreciated he was there.

“You two,” Joss shook her head as she reached over and congratulated Sameen.

“It’s cool,” Gen said, looking closely at the medal. “I like the one I gave you better.”

“Me, too, Kid,” Shaw confessed, making the girl’s face light up.

* * *

Shaw approached the man responsible for putting this all together.

“I hope it annoyed you as much as I planned it would, Shaw,” the gentle giant teased.

“You did a great job, Sir,” Shaw confirmed. “So, we’re good here, yes?” she asked of their deal.

“Yes, I pulled a few strings; quite a few strings actually, but they’re willing to accept one week of training, starting next week. Oh, and here’s the other thing you asked for,” he said, handing Sameen a duffle bag.

“Thank you, Sir; thank you for everything,” Shaw said, and stood at attention and saluted him.

“Thank _you_ , Captain Shaw,” he said, returning the sincere salute. “For _more_ than you’ll ever know.”

And with that, the man who had seen to Sameen Shaw getting her due; in spite of her; bade her, Root and Michael goodnight.

“What’s in there?” Root asked, but her wife was very evasive.

“You’ll see,” she smiled.

Zoe was more than just curious about her girlfriend’s hasty goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Shaw. I know you won’t want to, but we can compare notes.” Then, the trusty assistant turned to Root and whispered, “Under the jacket.”

“I swear, something has happened to her,” Shaw said, unable to decipher the cryptic assistant.

“Yeah, Zoe Morgan has happened to her,” Root smiled and pushed into her wife who still couldn’t figure that out.

“Well, if she breaks her, she takes her,” Shaw decided. “It took me forever to get her …. you know….,” she said, waving her hand when words failed her.

* * *

When the trio arrived home, Root was about to move in for a long awaited kiss when her wife took out the items from the bag the Major had given her. Handing the stack of clothes to Root, Shaw instructed:

“Recruit Groves; please put this uniform on.”

“Aren’t I a _private_ or something?” Root asked.

“ _IF_ you get through boot camp, you’ll be a private,” Shaw informed her wife. “Please get in these.”

Now role playing for Root was one thing; role playing with costumes was another; but Sameen conducting the role playing was absolutely pushing her over the edge. “You want me… to… put these on?” she asked to be sure and her voice cracked with excitement.

“Yes, Recruit,” Shaw said, her voice stern.

“Okay, I don’t know if …,” Root said, swallowing hard and trying to breathe deeply through her nose.

“Now, Recruit,” Shaw said and Root had to sit down in order to comply. The biggest grin burst onto her face, but Shaw didn’t see it. She was busy taking Michael upstairs to change her.

* * *

“Mommy has to get ready for her boot camp, Michael. This will be a little rehearsal for her, okay?” Shaw whispered as she changed Michael into the smallest set of fatigues; the green and tan camouflage work uniform of the marines. “I bet dressing you is going to be easier than those two,” Shaw said, jerking her head at the two canines who were sitting there.

Root practically ripped her dress off, trying to get out of it and into the camouflage colored pants, green t-shirt, socks and boots. “Oh, my God, this is so cute!” she uttered the words NO ONE has ever used to describe the marine uniform. She heard Sameen coming and was about to turn quickly and salute her when she saw the procession.

There, was her wife, still in full uniform, carrying Michael adorned in a similar outfit that she was in, minus the boots. Behind them walked Bear and Shadow, each wearing a camouflage patterned kerchief that garlanded their necks. The single line approached Root, who was swaying under the weight of her giddiness.

Shaw put Michael down to sit on the floor and pointed to the canines to stand next to her.

‘ _What are we doing_?’ Shadow asked Bear.

‘ _I think we’re marines now_ ,’ Bear said of the official uniforms.

‘ _I can’t do combat duty in my condition_ ,’ Shadow pointed out.

‘Yeah, we should... mention that... maybe,’ Bear added.

“The making of a marine, “ Shaw began, “… is a very tough process. One that is not to be taken lightly. You must be in superior physical shape, as well as mental.”

“Okay,” Root swayed, as she tucked her chin into her shoulder out of excitement.

“This is not the junior prom, Recruit Groves,” Shaw said, getting close to Root and looking up into her eyes.

“Oh, right,” Root said, getting back in what she thought was character.

“Let’s see how physically fit you are,” Shaw barked and Root thought she died and went to heaven.

“Oh, I think you’ll see I’m in very good shape,” Root cooed, and thought she was going to remove the uniform she just put on. Her hands were on the bottom of the t-shirt.

“Drop and give me ten,” Shaw said sternly.

“ _Ten_ …?” Root said, willing to give her wife ten of anything at the moment. The words that Root was filling in were making her eyes gloss over.

“Sit ups,” Shaw informed her.

Root’s face contorted as she tried to figure out if that was code for something far more exciting than exercise.

“Like this…,” Shaw said, and took sat down with her legs wide opened, across from her daughter, and took Michael’s hands. She lowered the baby down and then pulled her up. Then, she pushed herself back and sat back up. Michael liked this game.

“Oh!” Root said, “… sit ups.” She followed suit and got down next to Sameen and did them. “I can do them naked, too,” she whispered to her drill sergeant who was a Captain.

“I think we’re going to have to change that attitude, Recruit,” Shaw said, standing up and removing her jacket.

It was if a beam of light projected outward when she did. Root’s eyes widened when she realized what her trusty coworker had been hinting at all this time. Those white suspenders attached to Sameen’s pants were taught over her breasts. Root was even missing how carefully, how respectfully, her wife was removing her cap and jacket with the medal on it.

“When do we do hand to hand combat?” Root blurted out; desperate to get her hands on Sameen.

“There’s no talking out in the marines,” Shaw pointed out the rule she broke more times than she could count.

“Okay, but is there touching?” Root asked, biting her bottom lip.

Sameen did her best to get in close and try to intimidate her wife back into conforming, but Root was teetering on the edge. “Give me ten push-ups,” Sameen repeated, and then added, “…in your uniform, Recruit.” And then, not to leave anyone out, Shaw instructed the dogs to lie down.

“Tsk,” Root uttered and got down to do them.

Michael watched with intense interest. She looked at her pets, who seemed confused. Michael wondered if she could do this. She scrunched up her little face and chubby cheeks and screeched out a command. Her mothers smiled, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She did it again, this time looking right at Sameen. There was no mistaking that the child meant business.

“You are not in charge, Recruit Shaw-Groves,” Sameen said, bending down and trying to sound stern. She was met with a loud yell of opposition. “I am in charge,” Shaw informed the youngest member of her platoon. “You… are a recruit!” The scream that followed was by far, Michael’s longest one yet. Even the canines tried to cover their ears. “You can’t…,” Shaw tried, but was met with one of the firmest faces she’d ever seen. “You think I can’t do pushups?” her mother asked, because she turned most things into a dare.

Root was on her second one, when she stopped to watch her wife spread her arms out and cross her legs. If there was ever a time she wished she had x-ray vision, it was right then and there. She knew under that shirt and white suspenders and blue pants were the most toned muscles she ever had the pleasure of stroking.

Root lay down, staring up at Sameen who did her ten pushups with ease. “There!” Shaw said as if it had been nothing.

Michael smiled; not so much at her mother’s physical feat, but more for the fact that she made her.

Bear and Shadow looked at one another and got up to sit behind the person they knew was in charge. ‘ _So, size does not matter with the bipeds_ ,’ Shadow figured out on her own.

* * *

Being small and in charge was exhausting, and after making her mother do all that, Michael was tired and wanted to go to bed. She yelled at Root and squirmed.

“She’s tired,” Root interpreted correctly. “Let’s put her to bed.”

Root went to change her into her pajamas, but she wailed until she stopped trying to take the new clothes off. “She’s knows what she likes,” Root shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t think we should be giving in to every yell,” Shaw pointed out, but Root teased her by countering with:

“…Says the woman who did ten pushups because she told you to.”

Then, Root watched as Sameen took Michael in her arms and sang her the official Marine Hymn. “ _From the Halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli. We fight our country’s battles; in the air, on land, and sea. First to fight for right and freedom; and to keep our honor clean. We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine.”_

Michael was lulled to sleep by her mother’s song.

She lay the baby down in the crib and quietly walked out with Root. In spite of the idea to keep things quiet, the loud thump when Root accosted her wife against the wall as soon as they got outside, did little to disturb the youngest recruit.

“This is very unorthodox,” Shaw said to the other trainee.

Root stared at Sameen, as she ran her hands up and down the smooth white material of the suspenders. Then, without removing them, she started to unbutton Shaw’s white shirt. She playfully slapped Sameen’s hands when she went to unclasp the bands.

“You know you can be court marshaled for hitting, let alone fraternizing, with an officer?”

“Fraternizing means to associate with,” Root pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s what it means,” Shaw scoffed as Root pulled hard to remove her blouse. She gazed down at the sight before her. Sameen’s tanned smooth skin against the whiteness of her bra and suspenders. “God, you are beautiful,” Root said, her hands running over her.

“Undressing an officer…,” Shaw tried, but Root’s hands were slowly pulling the suspenders over her shoulders now. “Is an offense…,” she tried, but Root’s hot breath was on her neck as hands squeezed her breasts and slowly released them. “You could be…,” Shaw gasped as Root’s mouth found its intended targets and engulfed one, then the other.

“I hope to God you say punished,” Root shared because she had been fantasizing about that since Sameen appeared in the uniform.

Sameen turned the tables quickly and grabbed Root’s wrists before they could render her anymore incoherent. “I was going to say… tortured,” Shaw said, taking control and pushing her wife backwards to walk down the hallway.

“No!” Root said, trying not to let the excited laugh escape her lips, but she was on overload. “You can torment me; but I won’t talk!”

“Oh, Recruit Groves; _talking_ is not what I had in mind at all,” Shaw said in a low and husky voice that made Root lose her balance. Sameen’s strong arms were there to catch her. She pulled Root up and in one fell swoop; picked her up in her arms and carried her into their bedroom. She put Root down on the bed, removed the rest of her uniform as Root scrambled out of hers, and instantly jumped on the bed to straddle Root’s thighs. Leaning on her own hands now, she looked down at her wife. “How am I going to go four nights without touching you?” Sameen asked.

It was the first time that the genius realized how long she would be away, and how it meant she couldn’t be with Sameen. “I may have made a mistake, Shaw,” Root said.

“We’ll figure something out,” Sameen assured her.

Strong hands massaged Root’s breasts as Sameen ran her hands down the length of her wife; stopping in all key sensitive areas to arouse her beyond what she could stand. Sameen had never seen Root this excited, her skin flushed with arousal, her hand easily gliding into Root until she arched to meet each possessive thrust. Root fought for more oxygen as she gave herself over to the abandoned release that had been building for hours. She convulsed into a chain of spasms that made her hold Sameen’s arm in one final glorious moment that sapped her entire body. Root kept repeating calls to her deity, afraid her heart was going to burst through her skin.  
Sameen smiled down at the woman who possessed her heart. She slipped up alongside her now, collecting her in her arms and pulling the blankets over them.

“This is going to be hard,” she whispered as Root fell asleep.


	99. Brace Yourself

As Janine rushed Zoe practically all the way home, the Fixer frantically searched for her keys in her bag. “What has you… oh, we’re _running_ now,” Zoe Morgan said as her girlfriend pulled her up the front steps of her brownstone apartment.

Zoe allowed her lover to push the door wide open after putting her key in the lock. “Let’s go,” is all Janine said.

The Fixer marveled at what young love was like. Not young in years exactly, because she felt it to; but, rather young in terms of the romance. Evolution does its job when creating a hormonal surge that intensifies everything you feel about the person you’re attracted to. Everything seemed brighter, more alive when she was with Janine. She had little experience in the newness of romance and what it could do. She loved it!

Pushed up against the wall now, as Janine’s hands moved up her arms, she smiled at how mischievous this angelic looking woman could be.

“I bought you something today,” Janine smiled with a Cheshire like grin.

“You did?” Zoe pondered.

“Well, they’re for me, but you’re going to enjoy them I think,” the instigator said.

“More than one?” Zoe tried to guess.

“Sort of,” Janine hinted and grabbed her bag that contained the late afternoon delivery. “I’ll be right back. Why don’t you get a couple of glasses of wine and … some ice.”

“You want _ice_ in your wine?” Zoe asked.

“The ice…,” Janine said slowly as her finger slid down the opening of Zoe’s blouse, “… is for you. It’s going to get hot in there.”

Zoe stared, then smiled, and decided not to even bother guessing what her lover was up to. She was going to go with it; and enjoy it.

She went into the kitchen, got the wine from the wine refrigerator and poured two glasses. Then, just as she was instructed, she got a bowl and put some ice in it. For a second, she looked at the amount and wondered if it was enough. She added a few more cubes.

* * *

“I thought Shaw was going to die with all that attention at first,” Zoe shouted into her girlfriend who was in the bedroom. “But she rallied at the end and did a good job. I can see Shaw risking her neck for 46 women and children. And did you see Michael? Oh, my God, that kid is adorable, isn’t she?” she noted as she put the wine glasses down on the living room table and went back for the ice. “You know, this is all going to melt if you don’t get in here,” Zoe laughed and turned to see her girlfriend, standing in the doorway in her short black robe.

“Well, you’re ready for bed,” Zoe remarked, because she had no idea what was under the robe.

“The question is… are you…,” Janine said, walking towards her slowly, “… _ready_ for _this_?” She no sooner asked that question, when she opened her robe to display the adorable pink lace boxers, held up by pink suspenders. The one inch width material that ran from the panties up over her shoulders and reattached in the back, covered only the apex of her breasts.

“Wwwooowww,” Zoe said, elongating the very short word. “Where? How?” It was no use; the woman’s brain was incapable of complete sentences.

“Let’s just say, I was _inspired_ ,” Janine smiled, moving in and putting the bowl of ice down. She took one loose ice cube and brought it back up to her chest. “Is it me…?” she asked flirtatiously, running the melting cube down her sternum, “… or is it hot in here?”

Zoe stared at the outfit, and the wet stripe that descended down her lover’s torso. She knew she couldn’t speak, so she allowed her hands to glide up the stiff material of the braces. The back of her fingers grazed her partner’s breasts that stood at attention. “You are so beautiful,” Zoe said, looking into Janine’s eyes. “And… imaginative,” the Fixer added because she never had so much fun making love.

“You forgot…,” Janine said in a low voice, slowly lowering the elastic suspenders over her shoulders, “…. incredibly _naughty_.”

“That’s…. my favorite part,” Zoe gasped before pulled the woman down on her as they both fell onto the couch.

Morgan had never been so entertained, nor enticed, in any of her relationships. Her young lover was inventive, attentive, and smooth.

“I missed every clue about you,” Zoe confessed after an hour of intense love making that left them both, grabbing for the tiny bits of ice that were left.

Janine turned sideways and leaned on her bent arm to face Zoe. “I’m not sure it was there, really. I mean, I’ve never done anything like this. It’s you; Miss Morgan. You’ve brought this all out in me.”

“I don’t think I can take the credit,” Zoe was countering, when her lover put her finger to her mouth.

“You make me want to do _crazy_ things to you,” Janine confessed and reignited the fires.

“We’re going to need more ice,” Zoe laughed as she pulled her partner on top of her.

* * *

The next morning brought pandemonium to the Shaw-Groves household. It seemed that the impromptu ceremony made everyone realize that Root was committed to joining the Reserves. While they collectively didn’t understand that at all; what preoccupied the group en mass, was what Shaw would be like.

“Someone’s got to be with her,” Fusco shared with Iris over breakfast. “Her sister! Her sister should do it. They’re blood.”

“Do you really feel Sameen will need company?” Iris asked gently.

“No, what I really feel is the world will need some protecting,” Fusco explained.

Iris smiled, but in the look was the expression that she thought her boyfriend was perhaps exaggerating just a tad.

He was not.

* * *

“What are we going to do?” Isabelle asked back at the breakfast table when she was updated about the impending leave.

“ _We_?” Shaw asked, to be sure. As usual, she was pushing the event right into her blind spot so she did not have to deal with it.

“I mean, will you be here for meals? Should I send some food down to Root? Who will … you know… be with you?” the woman fretted.

“I don’t think care packages make you popular in boot camp, but maybe some cookies. Yes, I will be here for meals. And, who will be with me? Well, I’m guessing all the people who annoy me all day long won’t see fit to giving me a break,” Shaw pondered.

“But _you_ have a medal!” Isabelle snapped. “Can’t you do something?”

“I did do something. God knows what that man would make me do if I tried to get her out of going at all,” Shaw pondered and Isabelle stared hard at her.

“Don’t worry,” Root walked in and assured her. “It turns out boot camp for CEO’s who promise the military an Intel upgrade, will be mostly in meetings and not actual boot camp. Although, there will be some basic training involved. Besides, I’m doing it for the tattoo,” she explained.

“THE TATTOO?” Isabelle shrieked.

“No a _real_ one,” Shaw explained because she swore she could tell the difference in the pancakes when the woman was upset.

“A _real_ one,” Root corrected her wife, smiling.

“You can’t just get…,” Shaw was explaining when Root leaned over and kissed her.

“Says the woman who got my sentence reduced,” said Root.

“It’s not a _sentence_ ,” Shaw felt it necessary to correct her.

* * *

“This is going to be like a _sentence_ ,” Fusco added as he picked up donuts that he swore were just for Shaw.

“I think they’re going to do just fine,” Iris assured her worry wort boyfriend.

“I bet she’s in your office before Captain Crunch’s boots hit the ground,” worried Fusco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In some places, suspenders are called braces. Sometimes, they hold up stockings. In this case, they hold up something else.  
> PS Sorry this is so short


	100. One Track Mind

Shaw was busy eating her breakfast when the news broke that several employees of _Investor Plex_ had been arrested for fraud.

“That’s terrible that someone would defraud charities,” Isabelle said of the news.

“They messed with the wrong people,” Shaw said, glancing sideways at her wife who was behind the collapse of Frank’s firm.

“I think they messed with the _right_ people,” Isabelle corrected Sameen. One look at the smile on Root’s face told her this dynamic duo knew something about this.

“Yeah; you’re right,” Shaw smiled.

* * *

The trio made their way to work. Sameen took a long time kissing Root goodbye that morning; perhaps in preparation for the long four days to come.

“Maybe Isabelle was right; maybe you could come down,” Root said, slowly running her finger along the scoop neck of Sameen’s black t-shirt.

“Yeah, they’re funny about not bringing your family to boot camp,” Shaw reminded her wife.

“Well, we can Facetime,” Root decided.

“You do know that _boot_ camp is, right? It’s not like _summer_ camp with arts and crafts,” Shaw pointed out; remembering how she hated the summer camps her family insisted she go to when she was growing up.

“I never went,” Root pointed out and that realization pierced Sameen’s heart.

“Never?” she said, even though she knew her wife was telling the truth. Things like this upset Sameen to the core. It angered her that Root had such a difficult childhood. “Well, then we’ll have to fix that. When you get back; you, Michael and I will go on a camping trip. In our living room,” Shaw said, because she did not want Michael out in the wild.

“Our living room?” Root asked.

“Okay, the terrace,” Shaw compromised. It would seem that Shaw’s missions of late were to make up for all the wrongs she felt life had inflicted on her wife. She wasn’t going to stand by and allow that inequity to continue.

“I do so love you,” Root smiled, and leaned in to kiss Sameen. “See you soon.”

* * *

Shaw walked to her office, trying to figure out what her plan should be while Root was away. She was truly having trouble imagining being singular with Michael. It was of such concern, that her expression was an easy read to those who knew her. Like, the donut bearing detective sitting in her office.

“Yeah, I don’t know how you’re going to do it either,” he said, as soon as he saw her. “Donut?”

Shaw wanted to refute his declaration, but he was right. She shoved her hand into the bag, but came out empty handed. Something that caught Fusco’s attention immediately.

“You know,” Shaw said, flopping down in her seat and taking the coffee he pushed closer, “…she’s had some crazy ideas before, but this… this takes the cake.” It wasn’t a harsh accusation; Shaw was just noting this was worse than the others. “I mean, she can charm a lot of people; but the USMC? No.”

“Well, you did a good job getting it reduced. One week; that’s all. That’s not so bad,” Fusco tried.

Shaw looked around as if people might be listening over the tops of the cubicle walls and motioned for him to lean in. “I’m going to tell you something that you take to the grave,” she said and he stopped chewing the donut he didn’t even realize he was eating. He listened closely as she said; “Root… has _no_ …muscles.”

Fusco sat back a little; his brain trying to figure out why his friend thought it was necessary to point this out, in a whisper, no less. You could tell this about her wife at fifty paces. “Really?” he said, because he knew there was only one acceptable response.

“Yes,” Shaw said, as if she were divulging a family secret.

“Yeah, you couldn’t tell,” Fusco tried to say without too much sarcasm. The jelly donut shoved in his mouth helped a little.

“GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE!” Janine announced causing Shaw to groan out loud.

“What’s up with Cinderella?” he asked, choosing the first Disney reference he could think of.

“Zoe Morgan is up,” Shaw said, knowingly, but only because Root had told her first. “I swear, if she undoes all my hard work, I’ll kill her.”

“How can you two be cranky?” Janine asked, and then remembered what was coming. “Oh, is it because Root will be away? I’ve already thought about that,” said the woman who always was ahead of her boss, “… and you and Michael can stay with me and Zoe; or at least come to dinner!”

Now, Fusco was impressed because he never once thought to actually house Shaw in Root’s absence. His approach was more – run for the hills. So, he thought that was very nice. So much so, that he accepted on his stunned friend’s behalf. “She’d love to come for dinner!”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Shaw said.

“Yes, you would. You’re not thinking straight, Shaw. You’re thinking it’s only five days, but the missing will get to you, so you should go. What night?” he asked Janine.

“Whatever night works…,” Janine offered.

“Tuesday,” Fusco decided, dipping his hand into the bag again. He didn’t even mind when his friend grabbed the donut from him when he made his choice. “Monday will be tough, so you’ll go to your mother’s,” he planned out and retrieved the donut because Shaw was not responding.

“That’s a good idea; yes!” Janine concurred and Sameen hated that the two of them were on the same page.

“I’m not going…,” she tried, but apparently, she was not really included in the conversation.

“I’ll set it up,” Janine said and retreated to her office to do so.

“Okay, that takes care of Monday and Tuesday. Thursday is bowling, so we need Wednesday. Reese and Carter! Why shouldn’t they pull some weight,” Fusco thought out loud and then caught the expression on Sameen’s face. “I mean, they’d love to spend time with you.”

“I’m not going,” Shaw protested, but her friend was on his feet and out the door to get his partner involved.

“You’re all wasting your time,” Shaw shouted from her office. She finally went back to the donut bag and looked it. “FUSCO!” she yelled because he left her with only the plain ones.

* * *

She sat down in her chair and decided to ignore her friends and their plans. “I don’t have to go if I don’t want to,” she said to herself, but her incoming guest heard it.

“I signed up for lunch,” Genrika said cheerfully as she came into Shaw’s office.

“What?” Shaw asked.

“There’s a sign-up sheet outside; time slots for when Root’s away. I signed up for lunch. I can do dinner, but I have tests next week,” the youth explained.

“You’re a brainiac; does any of this sound at all _odd_ to you?” Shaw queried.

“To be honest,” Gen said and Shaw leaned in because she was certain the genius was going to agree with her, “…I thought there would be more slots. You know, like workouts, or movie time and stuff.”

“You’re drinking the Kool-Aid, Kid,” Shaw informed her friend. “Oh, hey, I got something for you,” she said, digging into her bag.

Then, something dawned on Sameen; the answer to her problem of Root going away and people swooping in to help her. “Here,” she said, staring off into space.

“What is this?” Genrika asked, of the small rectangular box. It had a velvet covering and was very heavy. She opened it slowly and then stared, wide-eyed at Shaw. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t take this…,” Gen said immediately.

Shaw stared at her, slightly confused. “Why?”

“This should go to Michael,” she said, handing the beautiful medal back.

“I want you to have it,” Shaw said, slowly pushing it back to her Goddaughter. “You gave me one, now it’s my turn,” she said of the medal Gen shared with her when they first met.

“But shouldn’t you keep this in your family?” Gen said, thinking of it as an heirloom.

“You... are my family,” Shaw answered truthfully.

That statement, spoke so honestly, made Gen’s throat close with emotion. She drew air through her nose and sat back, looking at the shiny object and trying to hold back tears. “Thank you, Shaw,” she said, but her voice cracked.

Sameen watched her reaction; not dismissing it, but rather … studying it. “I’d be honored if you kept it,” she said and the girl sprung from her seat and wrapped her arms around her favorite adult in the whole world.

As quickly as she grabbed Shaw, she released her and was headed for the door. “Hey,” Shaw said softly and waited until she turned around, “… it’s okay to feel stuff, okay?”

“Thanks, Shaw,” Gen said, trusting the woman on all things.

Janine could tell from the way the young girl walked out that Sameen had done something to impress her. She noted Gen clutching something to her chest as she left.

“Don’t tell me you gave her your…,” Janine said, rushing into Shaw’s office.

“It’s only a medal,” Shaw explained. “If I get Root through this week, they’ll probably give me another one.”

“OH!” Janine laughed, but was greatly relieved. “Your medal! Oh, that was nice, Shaw. I was afraid it was your…,” she said, and caught herself, but her hands were motioning up and down in front of her. . “That was nice.”

“What… is she doing to you?” Shaw demanded to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter 100!!! I swear, somewhere around Chapter 20, I thought - can I do this to 100, again? Well, with your kind posts, suggestions, ideas, thoughts, analyses of this wonderful characters, I've managed to get here. I thought 100 would be 'something' big. But it seems to only hint at the theme of this installment - which is the change in Shaw. So, my take is that ... this isn't done yet and will go beyond the 100 mark. God, I swear, I'll understand if you get off the train here. But I'm honored if you stay.


	101. Time Well Spent

It seemed the closer Monday morning approsched, the more Root and Shaw spent time with Michael, and holding onto each other.

“This is... good,” Root announced, but Shaw noticed her typical assured tone was wavering. “I mean, families do this all the time; when a parent or both go into the military. We should appreciate their sacrifices more, right?”

One look into those light brown eyes and Shaw saw something she rarely ever saw; self-doubt.

“Listen, we’re going to do just fine here. You do your best; that’s all they can ask,” Shaw said, even though that wasn’t completely true. “They’re lucky to have you.”

“It’s just a week,” Root said for the umpteenth time.

“Yes,” Shaw agreed slowly.

* * *

By the time they were ready to leave, Sameen had convinced Root not to take all the dresses and shoes she packed. “Remember, this camp comes with its own clothes,” she reminded her wife.

Isabelle packed a basket for the car ride, and squeezed Root so hard, she made her eyes pop open. “I’ll take good care of them,” she assured her boss.

* * *

The couple loaded up the family car. Then, due to Shaw’s stealth driving skills, she managed to get Root and Michael on the road without anyone in the press following them. Most recruits were deployed to Parris Island, North Carolina, for six weeks of training; but given the special circumstances surrounding this particular recruit, it was decided that Root should report to Marine Barracks in Red Bank, New Jersey. It was before daylight, because it was a two hour drive and Shaw did not want her wife late the first day.

Shaw lectured Root the entire way; warning her that the military was not open to debating things and that she’d get along fine if she didn’t balk at every order. When Shaw told her the consequences for doing so could be severe, she was speaking from experience. She shuddered at what some of her consequences were, until she learned the ropes.

“Try _not_ to be… you know,” Shaw said, waving her hand the length of her wife sitting in the passenger seat. Root wasn’t getting it. “Girly,” Shaw finally said.

“I’ll be fine,” Root said, getting her brave expression ready.

For every instruction Shaw gave her wife about how to survive the week; Root was giving Sameen gentle reminders of how to manage at home. “She can’t eat steak yet,” she said one last time.

* * *

When they arrived, they parked the car and joined the other families and recruits. Finally, a robust, short woman started to scream orders at them.  
“Are… they going to do that all week?” Root asked, apparently never having seen military themed movies.

“Oh, Sweetie,” Shaw said, because she knew that woman was the very least of her wife’s problems.

“Well, _look_ who we have here,” the Marine Sargent said, as she approached the couple.

Root completely misread the woman’s sarcastic greeting. Her face lit up and she turned to Sameen and contorted her face, scrunching up one side of it and closing her eye.

“We… really need to work on that,” Shaw said under hear breath.

“Ma’am,” the Sargent said, saluting the woman she knew just received the Medal of Honor.

Shaw saluted back halfheartedly; uncomfortable with the recognition.

“I hope you don’t think you’re getting special treatment here, Recruit,” she then barked at Root.

Michael did NOT like this at all. As angry as the woman sounded, Michael looked her square in the eyes and shouted at her. She pushed herself nearer, almost out of Shaw’s arms, to get closer to the yeller.

“Oh, I see who she takes after,” the woman smiled, breaking the facade of the hard nosed commander.

“I don’t know why everyone says that,” Shaw commented to Root.

Regaining her tough demeanor, the sergeant turned to Root. “I see you brought backup, Recruit. Well, don’t think that cute face is going to make it any easier on you.”

“Okay,” Root smiled, not quite getting that this was an intimidation tactic.

“Say goodbye, Recruit,” she barked and walked away.

“Are they all loud like that?” Root whispered and Shaw stood there, wide-eyed. Had she not just spend hours telling Root that this entire set up had a purpose.

Root kissed Michael goodbye and then turned to Shaw. Her eyes zeroed in on those plump lips that she would not touch for days. She cupped Sameen’s jaw and ran her thumb across the bottom lip. “I am going to miss you so much,” she whispered.

Shaw’s mouth instinctively opened, as she stood there mesmerized by her lover. “We’re going…to do…fine,” she assured Root.

“Yeah,” Root smiled.

The woman started barking again, telling everyone to get in line and stand at attention. Shaw watched as Root took her place and kept twisting around for one more last look at her wife and daughter.

“Are you hard of hearing, Recruit?” the woman barked when Root was the only one facing the wrong way.

“Look at how sweet they look,” Root said, touching the woman to make her turn back.

“Oh, God,” Shaw said, aware that her wife just broke a dozen rules.

“DID YOU JUST TOUCH ME, RECRUIT? I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU, RECRUIT GROVES!” the Sargent yelled in her face.

“Oh, okay,” Root complied, but not before getting in one more wave.

“I seriously doubt that,” Shaw said, as she and Michael waved goodbye.

Shaw talked to Michael the whole way back; assuring the child that they were all going to be just fine. The fact that her usually reticent mother was speaking in run on paragraphs, made Michael suspicious. She decided she better take a nap.

* * *

While the marines were getting their new recruits outfitted and settled in; the woman running the BEAR ship was barking her own set of orders.

“We need someone for Wednesday lunch, people!” Janine called out as she went over the detailed calendar she prepared for her boss. The usually very respectful staff member was taking matters into her own hands. “Reese! You’re up. Wednesday lunch,” she said, as if John didn’t outrank her.

“But, Joss and I have Thursday dinner,” the man reminded her. He had tried to explain to his very logical girlfriend that this was not something that was an option at BEAR.

Janine was undaunted as she went back to her schedule. Tapping the screen on her IPad with the blocked out times with designated names, she considered her options. “Okay, keep dinner on Thursday. I think in forty-eight hours, she’ll need some time with Doctor Campbell.” She got her phone out and called the woman, whose office was down the hall from her. Lunchtime Wednesday,” she said to Iris’ assistant. And don’t tell her it’s an appointment, just … you know… let her walk it,” she instructed as Reese stared at the one woman circus. “There,” she smiled back at Reese, her task complete.

“Good,” John said, already aware of how much Sameen was going to dislike this.

* * *

Fortunately, Shaw was upstairs in Root’s office and had no idea _Operation Hand-holding_ was taking shape. She sat down in Root’s large leather chair and took a deep breath. She could smell Root’s perfume as she slid her hands over her keyboard. Then, remembering why she was there, she turned to Root’s computer.

“You keep an eye on her,” she said to the Machine.

‘ _Do you want updates on her activities_?’ the Machine asked back.

“No!” Shaw said, as if she had been asked if she wanted the answer key to the test. “Don’t be ridiculous. Okay, wait,” she said, thinking this over more. “Text me, maybe,” she suggested. Her fear, of course, was that she’d want to run down there if something was going on.

‘ _Root is in the field, doing basic training,_ ’ the Machine reported.

“What? She was supposed to get the yoga version. Why is she…?” Shaw asked.

‘ _Root insisted that she spend as much time with her outfit as possible. She is doing the drills during the morning and working with their IT team in the afternoons_ ,’ the AI explained.

“I told her not to do… why do I bother!” Shaw asked, throwing her hands up in the air.

“ _Because you are hopeful that Root will agree with your view of the situation_ …,’ the AI answered.

“Never mind,” Shaw said, not wishing to explain it was a rhetorical question. “How… can you see?” she hesitatingly asked, because she didn’t want the Machine to hijack the marine’s computer system.

‘ _I am running behind a training video software,_ ’ she said, as if reading Shaw’s mind. ‘ _She is on the obstacle course_ ,’ she said, and the picture appeared on Root’s computer.

“ROOT!” Shaw said, grabbing the sides of the computer screen and pulling it closer. “What are you doing?” she groaned, when she saw Root sashaying up to the front of the line. “Don’t… don’t… push her!” she yelled at the man who she knew was about to bark orders at Root and push her down. “Sonovabitch!” Shaw said in disgust and got up so fast, the chair shot back. “I’m not…. See? This is what I tried to tell her,” she ranted and decided not to look anymore, but had to turn back and sit down to look some more.

“RECRUIT GROVES!” the man shouted as Root made her way on her elbows and knees through the course.

Like a train wreck about to happen, Shaw tried to look away, but couldn’t. “Don’t answer him, don’t answer him!” she said to her wife.

“I’m coming,” she heard her wife assure the stodgy officer.

“Did you just talk to me, Groves? Who said you could talk to me! Give me twenty sit-ups,” he barked.

“Twenty? Are you trying to kill her? She can’t do twenty!” Shaw grimaced and had to double over in angst.

“Oh, okay,” Root smiled at the man. “We did these at home. One, two…”

“Do not count them, Recruit,” he yelled.

But then the oddest thing happened. Shaw noticed that the rest of the platoon; who had finished the course and were waiting up ahead; starting counting for Root. Shaw sat back in the chair. “Well, I’ll be…,” she said.

‘ _Root has bonded with her fellow recruits_ ,’ the Machine reported. ‘S _he lent someone a comb; helped another with their uniform; shared her dessert from lunch; and pushed another recruit up the wall_.”

“She’s only been there half a day,” Shaw noted.

‘ _Root is accomplishing her goals_ ,” the Machine noted of her Caretaker’s desire to bond like a marine.

* * *

Shaw decided she’d go to her office to keep her mind off things.

“Where have you been? You have lunch with…,” Janine said, quickly looking down at her IPad. “…Martine and Ayala.”

“I do?” Shaw asked.

“Yes. How did it go this morning? Is Root okay? Are you okay? Is Michael with your mother?” she asked in rapid succession.

“Root is good; I am good; Michael is good and with my mother; do you need your prescription renewed?” Shaw asked back.

“You’re late,” Janine said to Ayala when she appeared in the doorway.

“Come on, sis; we’re taking you to lunch,” her sibling announced.

“Is Martine coming?” Shaw asked.

Right on cue, Martine appeared and greeted her friend.

“Good, now you two can talk about boot drills or whatever it is,” the IDF trained soldier said teasingly.

“You know I could take you, right? I mean, doesn’t that just keep you up at night, knowing your older sister could still beat you at…at anything,” Shaw said, as she passed by her assistant and winked.

Even Martine had to smile at that jab.

Janine smiled and fell down in her chair. She picked up her phone and texted her girlfriend. “It’s working!”

* * *

Shaw enjoyed lunch with her sister and friend, but kept glancing at her phone.

“How is Root doing?” Ayala asked.

“I think she’s okay,” Shaw replied.

Root was doing just fine. After a grueling morning of physical endurance testing, she ate with her fellow recruits. Then, she spent the afternoon with the military IT team, going over what she thought their systems needed.

“She maybe brilliant,” said one commanding officer when the meeting was over and Root rejoined her troop. “…but is she all there?”

“What do you mean?” his fellow marine asked.

“I swear, she looked up at the security camera and made their strangest expression with her whole face; like she was trying to wink at it or something.”

* * *

Later that day, as Root sat through her Morse code training class, Shaw was busy at work.

Suddenly, the speakers on her desk started to emit static. Shaw wasn’t even using them, but picked one up and shook it. The static intensified.

“Is she…?” she asked, when she thought she recognized a pattern in the noise. She grabbed a pen and opened her hand.

Slowly deciphering the distinct message, she wrote: _4AF_ … and broke out into the biggest grin. “That’s my girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for all the notes of encouragement. You cannot imagine what it means to me and I thank you all.


	102. Absence Makes the Heart Beat Faster

Lunch with Ayala and Martine was a welcomed break for Shaw; but the two women traded glances at how often their guest spoke Root’s name.

“I wish I had thought to make it a drinking game,” Ayala whispered later, but Martine shot her a look. “What? It would be fun; I would be drunk under the table; she said it so much.”

“Did I ever tell you I was jealous of your sister when she first came here?” Martine asked in a rare moment of sharing.

“Really?” Ayala responded, because sometimes siblings can’t appreciate what others see in their families.

“I was a real dick,” Martine summed up. “I think Shaw’s forgiven me.” And that was all the woman had to say about it. There was no drama with Martine; just the facts.

“My sister adores you,” Ayala noted because it was true. “I mean, as much as she can adore anyone who isn’t Root. But she does. She’s always interested in what you think.” There was a tinge of jealous in her voice.

“Well, she likes you a lot,” Martine repaid the compliment.

“Really?” the usually confident woman wondered.

“Yeah! She’d have killed you by now if she didn’t,” teased Martine.

Ayala caught the tiny smile on her lover’s face. “You’re not funny,” she complained.

Martine reached over and pulled Ayala into a hug; only after checking around to make sure no one would see them. “I’m sorry,” she said, making it hard for the younger woman to maintain her slight annoyance.

“Well, lucky for you, I am a _forgiving_ woman,” Ayala replied, kissing her girlfriend and forgetting everything she just said.

* * *

Isabelle was so worried about her favorite couple that she did what she usually did when she was nervous; she cooked. Shaw walked into the apartment with Michael, to the aromas of several of her favorite dishes.

“Wow!” Sameen said and put Michael in the highchair. “Mommy sais you’re not ready for steak; even though you tried to bite several heads off today,” Sameen teased.

Isabelle asked how they made out as she sliced steak, mashed potatoes, and added broccoli or good measure. “They’re like little trees,” she said to Sameen who stared at her.

She pushed them to the side as she started to eat. Isabelle was right alongside her; having insisted on feeding Michael her plums and mashed peas. “Is that good?” Isabelle said in a sing song voice to Michael, but it was her mother who answered.

“Id-really-iz,” Shaw said of the delicious steak.

Bear and Shadow came into the kitchen. He barked a very long string of syllables at Sameen.

“Talk about what?” she asked, perturbed he was interrupting her. “I just got in and I‘m eating; can you wait until later?” Shaw asked and Isabelle smiled at her. She took it in stride that Root and Shaw were so personable with the canines.

Daan had offered to inform every one of the happy news, but Bear bit him slightly – indicating it was his to tell. “She hides it well,” Daan said of the mother-to-be.

Bear wasn’t so happy. If Sameen was going to ignore him, he’d have to take drastic measures. He barked at Michael, reminding her how funny it is when she sneezes with her mouth full. Michael gave it a try - just as Sameen was taking over for Isabelle, who had to slice up more steak.

“ACHOO!” the child sneezed and watched as little green globs flew out of her mouth. Her eyes widened as she witnessed the splash onto her mother’s face. She waited – because she wasn’t always sure when grownups found things funny; although they usually did. Bear found it funny immediately and wished for the umpteenth time, he could pull his lips back the way humans could when they laughed. Lacking the ability to chuckle was truly an oversight in their development, he felt.

Shaw broke out into laughter and so did Michael. “Look what you did to Mommy,” Shaw noted to Michael and took her hand to blow a raspberry in her palm; making a warbled noise. Michael thought this was the best thing that happened to her all day. But, it reminded her that she missed Root and she became whingy.

“I’ll clean her up while you…,” Isabelle suggested and Sameen thanked her.

* * *

Bear decided this was a great time to talk to Shaw, but she begged him off again – saying she had only minutes to shower. “As soon as I come down,” she said, when he continued to nudge at her.

‘ _Have you considered a training school for them_?’ Shadow asked, having graduated at the top of her class.

‘ _I seriously doubt it would help_ ,’ Bear said, exhausted from his attempts.

By the time Sameen emerged from her shower, her phone was ringing. It was Root, Facetiming. “Oh, my God,” Shaw said, when she saw Root’s face. “How are you? I miss you!”

“Hi, Sweetie! I miss you, too,” Root said and realized her wife was standing there in a towel. “I mean, I really miss you.”

“How is everything? Where are you? You’re allowed to call?” Shaw asked in rapid succession, worried her wife was taking things into her own hands.

“I’m sorry; what?” Root asked because her eyes were glued to the tightly wrapped towel.

“Eyes up _here_ , Root! Are you okay?” Shaw worried.

“Oh, yes; they let me have time to express the milk. You know, without Michael here, I need to pump…,” Root was explaining.

“Okay, okay, yes, I get it,” Shaw said, when Root held up the mechanical pump in her other hand.

“I’ll show you _mine_ , if you show me _yours_ ,” Root teased as only she could in the middle of basic training.

And it was a tempting offer! But they both heard the blood curdling screams coming from Michael’s room where Isabelle was doing her best to calm her down.

“I better take you with me,” Shaw said, rushing out of the room and into the nursery. “Look who it is,” she said, showing Michael the phone.

The baby stopped crying long enough to see her mother on the phone. Shaw stared at the red eyes, the quivering lower lip, and the look of general distress on her daughter’s face. Root did her best to coo her hello to the baby, but Michael was over tired now. She watched for a second, but they broke out in a higher pitch cry than before.

“Holy crap!” Shaw said, looking at Root. “What … what is _that_ about?” she asked the baby whisperer. She kept turning the phone to Michael as if Root needed to see what was going on.

“She’s probably tired. Did you feed her?

“Yes, no steak, but yes,” Shaw said.

“She’s changed?” Root tried next.

“Yes,” Isabelle said.

“Try rocking her, Sweetie. She’s probably just very tired,” Root proffered.

“Okay, well… hold on,” Shaw said, grabbing shorts and a top and changing as she put the phone down. Isabelle turned to face the baby; but Root got the full view when Shaw put the phone on the bed.

“Oh, God, Friday will never get here,” Root lamented out loud.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Shaw said and took the screaming baby. “Mommy says you’re tired. That’s it, right?” Shaw practically begged because it was Root who seemed to know what the issues were.

“Sit on our bed and rock her, Sweetie,” Root said, feeling for her wife and daughter as they expressed their feelings.

“She’ll be fine,” Root heard Isabelle assure her, but she wasn’t sure which one of her girls she was talking about.

* * *

Shaw took Michael into the bedroom and sat against the pillows, holding her in her arms; the phone propped up so Root could see them. Michael was squirming and generally unhappy, until Shaw started to hum the tune her mother used to sing to her. Root didn’t understand the words; but the tune was soothing and Michael eventually stopped fusing and stared up at Shaw as she sang. She put her little fingers up to touch Shaw’s lips because she liked them. She liked resting against this body; it wasn’t as soft as her other mother’s; but it made her feel very safe.

Root watched as Michael fell asleep. Tears filled her eyes as the missing in her heart melded with the beauty of the sight before her. How did time manage to slow down to this crawl? She felt as if weeks had passed; and yet, it had only been hours.

Sameen gently put Michael down in the crib in their room and came back to her phone. She pulled the covers up over her, so as not to disturb her daughter. “She misses you, but she’ll be okay,” Shaw said, and looked back as if she could see through the blankets.

“I miss you both, too,” Root said, drawing in a deep breath. “But I learned a lot today!”

“Yes, I heard you did very well in Morse code,” Shaw winked at her.

“They’re really into rules down here,” Root said as if this might be news to Sameen. “But, they all know you! You’re like a marine celebrity!”

“Great, my fifteen minutes of fame is with a bunch of rule followers,” Shaw teased.

“Well, _not_ _all_ rule followers,” Root smiled devilishly. “A bunch of us are going to sneak out tonight.”

Shaw looked at her wife’s expression and it was nothing short of pure excitement. “What? You know this is boot camp; not a sorority, Root. You’re not going to braid each other’s hair…,” she was saying, when Root twisted her head around to show off the long braid down her back. Shaw stopped talking; trying to get her head around what she was seeing. “Who did that?” she asked, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“RECRUIT!” someone shouted loudly and Shaw pushed the volume down. “ARE YOU DONE, RECRUIT?” the woman demanded to know.

“I better go,” Root whispered. “I’m not supposed to have a phone,” she said, rolling her eyes so well, Sameen’s head jerked back in surprise. “I love you,” Root said, putting her lips to the screen to kiss Shaw. “ALMOST!” Root answered as the screen closed out.

Sameen stared at the phone that showed the call was disconnected. She didn’t like anything about this. Braiding hair? Sneaking out? On the first day? She suddenly realized there was no air under the heavy blankets and pushed them back with force to breath.

There was something going on in her chest; something that felt awful. She rubbed it, wishing it away, but it was urgent and piercing. Sameen Shaw had done an excellent job of suppressing any other missing in her life. Overwhelmed by her parents departures, the young girl shut down all of her feelings in defense. Now, that she was allowing her heart to open to life’s experiences, she was learning the very hard lesson about that process.

You feel the _good_ feelings …. And ... the _not so good_ ones. Shaw was feeling the pain of disconnect. And it was awful.

“What the hell is wrong with that woman?” she wondered out loud of her therapist.

Unfortunately, her tone was a little too loud – and she woke a very disgruntled Michael up – who started the crying all over again.

“Mom-mieeee!” Sameen cried out when she realized she was the one who had to take care of this.

Hours later, Michael slept soundly next to her mother in the bed.

‘ _Did you tell her?_ ’ Shadow asked.

‘ _No; as usual; the bipeds were too busy. I wish I could do that thing_ …” Bear lamented.

‘ _What thing_?’ Shadow asked.

‘ _Air quotes_ ,’ Bear said. ‘ _And eye rolls. I wish I could do those, too._ ’

Shadow stared at him. ‘ _We’ve got a week at best_.’

Now, it was _Bear_ who couldn’t sleep all night.


	103. Biting Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to the real Sarah Shahi for providing us with awesome outfits to include in these chapters. Referenced outfit is on her IG account and Twitter.

Both Root and Shaw woke up on Tuesday morning feeling very tired. Sameen was adjusting to being the single parent in charge; while Root was adjusting to being…well.., _not_ in charge. The new recruit, who had bonded immediately with her fellow marines; had explained that she had limited time to do the things she wanted to accomplish and enlisted their help in completing her tasks.

The group setting afforded Root a first person account of what this venture meant to her fellow marines and families. She was very upfront about why she was there; not shying away from the fact that her signing up was more personal gain, than their noble enlisting. “My wife is a marine; I wanted to know what that was like, but I was granted the short version,” Root said apologetically. Her fellow recruits told her they knew what they were getting into when they signed up. But, they worried about their families.

It was then and there that the genius CEO said she would work on making that better. “ _I want a fleet of buses_ ,” she texted Reese. She knew John would get all the details before questioning what any of this was for.

It wasn’t getting up early that was so hard for Root; it was the physical exertion when using her right arm. She made sure to keep her sleeves down that day.

* * *

As Root was running the three mile trek, Sameen was devouring her breakfast. “One cheerio for you…,” Shaw said as she shoved a pancake in her mouth. “Mummynedzenagy.”

“Your mother is on her way up,” Isabelle informed Sameen. “Now, will you be here for the play-date at two o’clock?”

“The _what_?” Shaw asked.

“I was afraid of this,” Isabelle confessed. In the whirlwind of changes, Root forgot to cancel some things. “Root set up a play date with some other children and their parents,” she explained. “I guess she forgot.”

“What the hell is a play…thing?” Shaw asked.

“Date,” Isabelle filled in. “It’s an opportunity for moms and dads of children Michael’s age to bring their children to socialize and play. You never had a play date?”

“Not the kind my parents would be at,” Shaw quipped and then cleared her throat because it wasn’t funny. “Right, well, cancel it.”

“So, you want me to _cancel_ it?” Isabelle asked and Sameen knew the woman well enough to know, she was repeating the instruction because she was giving her a chance to think it over.

“Yes, cancel it,” Sameen concluded again.

“Oh, okay. I was just thinking how impressed Root would be that you had it anyway,” the woman said.

Just then, Azar walked into the kitchen and started to fuss over Michael. She kissed Sameen hello and couldn’t help but run her finger over her chin to remove some syrup. “How is my big girl?” Azar asked.

“I’m really tired,” Shaw answered and then realized the question wasn’t for her.

“Of course you are, dear,” Azar said, because it’s a constant stage of parenthood.

“And Root planned a play…,” she started and stopped.

“Date,” Isabelle filled in again.

“With other children and parents,” Shaw said, her tone clearly explaining how horrified she was.

“Oh, that will be great fun for Michael,” Azar said, picking her granddaughter up.

“It will?” Sameen asked because she gave little thought to her daughter enjoying anyone her own age.

“It’s very important for children to learn socialization skills,” Azar said and let Michael squeeze her face. She liked the warm sound of her grandmother’s deep voice.

“Oh,” Shaw said, not quite up on that topic yet. “Okay, then,” she conceded.

“So, don’t _cancel_ it?” Isabelle asked.

“Don’t look so innocent; you just tried to layer guilt on me faster than you ice your cakes,” Shaw pointed out.

“Guilty as charge,” the chef confessed because she knew Sameen could handle this. “Speaking of cake; do you want me….?”

“There’s _cake_ at these things?” Shaw exclaimed. “Why didn’t you say that? You should have said cake dates; then I would have understood.”

Azar got Michael ready for a walk in the park while Sameen got ready for work. Maybe because she was missing Root badly, she subconsciously grabbed a set of blue and pink suspenders to go with her jeans and blue and white button down shirt. She liked the feel of the braces fitting tightly over her.

“Okay, so I’ll meet you back here at one thirty,” Shaw announced as she kissed Michael goodbye.

Michael let out a loud scream when Azar announced they were going out. Shaw watched as her mother explained to the baby that she might not think she would enjoy it, but she would, once they got there. Sameen was amazed that Michael listened intently and then… stopped yelling. She was going to have to ask Root to explain how that worked.

* * *

Sameen took a selfie in the elevator and sent it to Root. “I miss you more today than yesterday,” she typed. She wasn’t sure Root would see it, but when she felt her phone vibrate, Root pretended to throw up, just so she could sneak a peek.

Janine was already setting the stage for Day Two of _Operation Handholding._

“I don’t think Shaw would appreciate that name,” Zoe warned her girlfriend as she took her place.

“Now, usually Fusco is here with donuts, but he’s on standby for two o’clock today, so I need you to be here,” Janine explained, ignoring the warning. “And we’re not telling her the name, okay?”

“It’s cute that you don’t think she’ll catch on, babe; but she will, and I promise to be there to protect you when she does,” Zoe smiled and kissed her well intentioned lover.

“Really? You would…?” Janine asked because she couldn’t imagine a force stronger than Sameen Shaw. “I appreciate that,” she said and wanted to promise she’d pick up all the pieces, in turn.

She heard Sameen approaching and practically pushed Zoe into place. “Act natural,” she said, as she made her sit in the chair near Shaw’s desk.

“I don’t think there’s anything natural about this,” Zoe said under her breath, but did as she was told.

* * *

Shaw walked in after having given thought to the fact that she just agreed to allow her daughter to be in the same room with ten other strangers and their children. “I want these people checked out,” she said as she forwarded a list she got from Isabelle. “ _Carlson Van Setter_? What the hell kind of name is that. One of these kids is name Charles Perez the _Fifth_. I need to make sure there really were four others,” Shaw said, unaware of what her outfit was causing.

Suspenders had taken on a whole new meaning to the assistant ever since she purchased her own and adorned them sans much else. “Wow,” she said, staring at them.

“Right? Shaw declared because she assumed her friend was as surprised as she was that Root invited these people to their house. “How do I know these kids are up on the vaccinations?”

“That’s…,” Janine said, but she was too busy staring at the outfit.

“… a good question, I know,” Shaw completed her thought. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” Janine said and was about to say; “ _Prepare yourself! You have a visitor!”_ … but she used the work … “ _Brace yourself_ ” instead and then couldn’t utter another word.; biting her lower lip hard and staring.

“I swear this is Morgan’s doing,” Shaw rolled her eyes and stepped into her office, where the accused woman was waiting for her.

“Good morning, Shaw,” Zoe said, just like they practiced, holding up a bag of warm croissants.

“What have _you_ done to her?” Shaw asked, as long as the woman was occupying her office.

“Oh, Shaw; it’s sweet that you think any other force but you could do that,” Zoe said with feeling.

Sameen eyed her suspiciously, but was deterred by the strong aroma of the buttery treats. “What are you doing here? Nothing to fix?”

“Actually, there’s a great deal to fix,” she slipped out and heard her girlfriend clear her throat that she was definitely off script. “Truthfully, Shaw; I figure it’s got to be hard to be without Root this week; so I stopped in to see how you were doing.”

Janine held her breath until her boss responded: “Thanks, that’s very nice of you.”

“Croissant?” Zoe asked, offering the bag; having made it past the first level.

Sameen eyed the bag suspiciously and peered in. The smell was in contrast to the fact that they weren’t round with a hole in them. “They’re good,” Zoe promised and Sameen finally took one.

“Nahbad,” Shaw said and finally her assistant let out a sigh of relief.

“How are you doing, Shaw?” Zoe asked and had to ask her way because if she followed the script her girlfriend prepared, Shaw would have noticed immediately.

“Okay,” Shaw responded. “I spoke to Root last night so that was good,” she said, between bites of the flaky treat.

“You need anything?” the Fixer asked because she would do anything for Shaw.

“I’m good,” Sameen said and thanked the woman for the food.

“Take care, Shaw,” Zoe said as she exited. Direct questions got direct answers and Zoe was up and on her way out when Janine stood in her way.

“You didn’t ask her if she wanted drinks,” she said without moving her lips. Her arched eyebrow clearly told Zoe she wasn’t gaining passage until she did.

“Hey, Shaw; you want to go for drinks?” Zoe called back into her office.

“I’m good, but thanks,” Shaw said, and explained: “I got a play date.”

“She’s got a play date,” Zoe said, smiling at her girlfriend. “And no, I do not want to witness that!”

* * *

While Shaw was navigating the list of invitees later that morning and while Reese was working on the logistics of purchases a fleet of buses; Root was sucking down the pain of becoming a marine.

“Do you want someone to help you, Recruit Groves?” the drill sergeant yelled when Root favored her arm.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” smiled the woman who still thought everyone was being polite.

“Do you even know what _sarcasm_ is, Recruit?” the man yelled even louder.

Root took this as a legitimate question and gave it some thought, but he was losing his cool and started yelling again to get in line.

* * *

While she didn’t impress anyone in the drill command, she was about to amaze the IT team. A program Root developed made for better scanning capabilities for drones; with the potential of causing less civilian casualties. She even shared how she developed a tablet that would allow soldiers in remote areas to help the people with medical issues. “Easier to build connections than walls,” she smiled as she explained how they could benefit. But talking about that invention, reminded Root how she and Shaw met and how she kidnapped her to help her deliver tablets to a remote village in the jungle. “I also have an idea of how to reduce mental health issues,” she segued even though no one asked her to tackle the issue.  
Root talked for the better part of an hour about how she thought the stress of being away from families affected recruits. “I get the whole tearing down the individual to make a marine, but how about we leave that individual intact, and harness what made they join to begin with,” she suggested. She kept talking because she knew she wasn’t going to get them to give up a mantra that was in place since the beginning; but she was going to talk them into some changes that might motivate the troops even more.  
“Private buses dedicated to driving the families down to the base, every other weekend, for visits,” she proposed. “Many families can’t get here on their own and that disconnection is awful; I can tell you,” Root said, drifting off again. “We owe it to those who serve to respect their families, who are serving with them.”

Maybe because Root had solved the technical issues in a so little time, that this gave her so much time to dedicate to her ideas. Of course, the picture of Sameen in suspenders on the phone she wasn’t supposed to have on her had _everything_ to do with this. She really drove her points home.

* * *

When the playdate hour was almost at hand, Sameen entered the penthouse with her designated Sargent-at-Arms.

Azar was holding Michael as they watched Sameen set up a folding table in the entryway. Janine was pulling up a chair and opening her laptop. “Here are the labels,” Shaw said, and put them on the end of the table. “Now, remember; when they take the pen, put it in the canister and hand the next one a new pen,” she instructed.

It didn’t take long for the former-sometimes-active operative mother to assess what her daughter was doing. The canister would collect the fingerprint and a report would pop up on Janine’s laptop.

“Why not just ask the Machine…?” Azar was asking because it seemed an antiquated way to do things when that powerhouse was … well, in their house, so to speak.

“Root says we’re not to use it for every little thing…,” Shaw shrugged, having spent all morning on figuring out this plan.

“Sameen, darling; do you think for one minute that I would allow unknown parties into my granddaughter’s home?” Azar smiled and produced a stack of papers from her oversized bag. It contained the list of attendees with their full background checks, financial reports, and medical updates. “All the children have their inoculations,” she knowingly smiled.

Sameen stared at her and then back at Janine, who was suddenly out of a job. Looking back at her mother; Sameen declared: “You are one badass grandmother, do you know that?”

“Yes; yes, I do,” Azar smiled confidently.

“Do you happen to know what you do at one of these date and play things?” Shaw asked.

“Small talk and refreshments while the children play,” Azar said as if she had done them all her life.

“Oh, crap!” Shaw moaned.

“You’re going to do just fine,” Azar assured her daughter. She handed her Michael and kissed them goodbye. “Watch out for little Conner,” she whispered to Janine. “He’s a biter; and it won’t look good if Sameen bites him back.”

Janine was _back_ in the game again!


	104. Playing Nice

At almost the very same moment, both Root and Shaw were headed into their personal battlefronts. Sameen stared at the group of six mothers, four dads and thirteen children; most around Michael’s age, but a couple of older siblings. She shook her head, wondering how she ever agreed to this.

About sixty miles away; Root was enduring her next challenge with her usual aplomb. “It’s very heavy,” she shared with her CO who was shouting at her to lift the logs and get them out of the way. She had all but failed the physical portion that morning, and was remanded back to the course in the afternoon.

“A DEAD BODY IS HEAVY, RECRUIT!” he shouted and she smiled back at him to give it another try. “DO YOU HAVE ANY MUSCLES UNDER THAT UNIFORM?”

If only Sameen had gone over - _not treating each question as if it were an inquiry to be answered_. But Root gave thought to everything they asked. “Not like Sameen,” she gushed, as if this man cared that she knew every square inch of every muscle in her wife’s body. “She can dead-lift a hundred and forty five pounds! I’m not even sure what that ….”

“RECRUIT!!” he screamed and the veins showed in his neck and forehead.

“TMI?” Root asked apologetically.

“You know what I’m going to do, recruit? I’m going to personally thank your wife for getting you out of here in one week!” he yelled.

“She would really like that,” Root shared before he stared her down and she tried again to lift the log.

Her efforts paid off and Root finally accomplished the feat. It earned her a fifteen minute break where she raced back to the barracks and applied some salve to her arm.

* * *

Sameen’s expression was definitely one of a soldier about to enter combat. She eyed each parent suspiciously before entering the living room where they had gathered.

Her assistant had watched her boss don the fake smile as she greeted them. “I’m afraid her face will freeze like that,” she shared with Isabelle. “I’ll take those little cream puffs in; she likes them.”

Janine had decided that it was her job to keep a careful eye on her boss so that no one got hurt. She also convinced the chef to make a rack of ribs for dinner; something Sameen could actually devour, using her teeth.

Sameen initially thought this gathering was a bad idea, because Michael clutched onto her and wouldn’t go on the floor with the other babies.

“Maybe we should have shown her what… _they_ are…,” Sameen said out of the side of her mouth to Janine.

“She just needs time to warm up to them,” she assured her boss.

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Shaw half smiled as the other parents chatted.

“She might do better if you get down there with her,” Janine suggested.

“Yeah?” Shaw asked because it looked crowded and messy down there. “Okay,’ she agreed and asked Michael if she wanted to sit with her. Sameen sat down, crossing her legs and Michael sat security in her lap. From this very secure vantage point, she could watch the other children and decide if she liked them. Babies immediately crawled over to Sameen and Michael actually let out a low growl at first. “I think you’re hanging out with Bear too much,” she whispered to her daughter. “It’s okay,” she assured her and let the other babies pull on her arms. Michael watched and then turned to face Sameen. She touched her face – a gesture to make sure everyone understood whose mother this was. The other babies didn’t seem to care, and Michael took that as a good sign. She wiggled off Shaw’s lap on her knees and hands; going head to head with the other children. Sameen picked up a toy that turned and lit up and put it on the floor. Now, they crawled over like moths to a flame. Sameen turned on her stomach and showed the babies how it worked.

“Conner,” the father of the two year old called out. The child, who was teething and expresses himself by biting, approached Michael. Sameen was watching carefully, but Michael had this under control. When Conner sat next to her; she turned and stared him right in the eye and yelled; baring her mostly gummy mouth. The biter backed away slowly.

* * *

The parents eventually got Sameen to join in while many of the kids played at their feet.

“It must be hard with your wife away,” one mother sympathized. “My wife travels for business and I find it very hard.”

The others joined in, each talking about the challenges of raising children. This wasn’t a group of well to do’s, but rather people Root had met in the park or on strolls. More than one was a single parent, who offered advice.

Conner’s dad seemed especially good with the babies, but was quiet when everyone talked.

“His wife is having an affair,” Janine whispered to Shaw as she helped Isabelle serve refreshments.

“How…?” she was asking the assistant who had just met these people.

“You hear things,” is all the well attuned listener said.

The adults were all eating when the children became restless again. Shaw lay down on the floor, slowly crawling towards Michael and making sounds. “Here I come,” Shaw said, much to the delight of the group. Michael grabbed Sameen’s stray hair strands, because this was one of her favorite games. She pulled and then Shaw would grab a chubby leg and pretend to munch on it, all the time making noises that made Michael squeal in delight.

“ME!” demanded Conner who wanted this hilarious grown-up to do it to him.

Sameen looked at Michael, as if to ask if she approved. Michael put both her hands in her mouth and yelled, encouraging her mother to do it to her new friend. “Brrrrrrah,” Shaw said as she did it to the little boy. “See, no teeth involved,” Shaw pointed out as the child broke out in laugher. “Again!” he pleaded.

The parents were each impressed with how playful the woman, who practically scowled at them when they arrived, turned out to be. When the scheduled time was up, they each gathered up their children and thanked Sameen for a wonderful play date.

Janine nudged Isabelle and smiled. They watched as Shaw said goodbye. Her suspenders were hanging off; her blouse was pulled out in the back; her hair was completely disheveled. And then she uttered three words neither woman ever expected her to say;

“That was fun.”

This was immediately followed up by something that made Janine’s heart skip a beat.

“I need your girlfriend,” Shaw said and asked Isabelle to hold Michael.

“Yes, your mommy was the life of the party,” Isabelle agreed when Michael babbled that very thing to her.

* * *

“You need… Zoe?” Janine asked as Sameen told her to follow her into the library.

“Yeah, and you, too,” Shaw confirmed and heard the woman moan – ‘ohmyGod!’ “What’s that guy’s name?”

“Which guy?” Janine asked as Shaw sat at the computer.

“The guy…Conner’s father,” Shaw explained.

‘ _Hello, Shaw_ ,’ the Machine said and Janine looked around.

“Is that … who is that?” Janine asked and Shaw realized the woman may not know everything about the Machine.

She sat down in the chair; deciding these was no time better than the present. “Okay, listen – this is Root’s super know-it-all artificial intelligence program that is way more powerful than anything you have ever seen. It can access all kinds of things and my mother was the one who gave birth to it, if you will. But it sort of adopted Root as its caretaker because super know-it-all programs want geniuses to watch over them. Which Root does and she’s letting her out a little at a time,” Shaw continued, whispering the last part as if the Machine couldn’t pick up on it. “It’s how my mother found out all that information about those parents,” Shaw said and snapped her fingers. She looked through the pages until she found the information on the very sweet father who suspected his wife of having an affair.

Of all the things Janine could have asked, she chose; “She calls her a ‘She’?”

“Yeah,” Shaw confirmed. “They’re sorta attached.”

Janine thought back to the night she lost Shaw and looked heaven bound and asked for help. She looked at the screen, where the voice came from. “Thank you,” she said, feeling as if she finally got to thank the entity that helped her that night.

“ _You are welcome_ ,” the Machine answered.

“Are you two done?” Shaw asked, and gave the AI the information she wanted. Minutes later, the printer went off and out came pictures of the man’s wife, seated across from another man in a restaurant, holding hands.

“Call Zoe; I need her to handle this,” Shaw said, handing the pictures to Janine.

Calling the Fixer immediately, Zoe agreed to come over right away.

The woman of few words took this opportunity to ask her assistant; “So, you and Zoe?”

“Yes!” gushed the younger woman and blushed immediately. “She’s amazing! I mean, not only in bed,” she shared too much.

Shaw stared, but managed to say she was happy for her.

“So, you can ask… her… anything?” Janine wondered out loud.

“Pretty much,” Shaw answered and then realized the power at her fingertips. She turned back and said: “So, who the hell braided Root’s hair?”

“What?” Janine asked, but the Machine was already providing a name.

* * *

Zoe Morgan arrived a short time later and was slightly surprised to find Fusco going up in the elevator with her.

“I have dinner,” he said as if comparing schedules.

“I had breakfast,” Zoe shared back.

“Donuts?” Fusco inquired.

“Croissants,” Zoe corrected him.

“Croissants?” he repeated as if she broke a golden rule. “And how did _that_ go over?”

“No bad, actually,” Zoe said as the doors opened to the apartment.

Both guests stopped in their tracks when they saw Sameen’s state of dress.

“Rough day?” Zoe asked, looking at Janine who seemed okay.

“You look like hell, Shaw,” Fusco said truthfully.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Shaw barked and both guests answered they were invited. “She’s invited; _you_ are intruding.”

“This says otherwise,” Fusco said, flashing the calendar that showed he was on duty for dinner. “Ah, ah,” he said, grabbing it back and putting it in his pocket. “When’s dinner?”

“What did happen here…exactly?” Zoe inquired because of how ruffled Sameen looked.

“Shaw’s play date, remember?” Janine said to her girlfriend whom she expected to remember every detail of her boss’ life the way she did.

“Oh! Right,” Zoe smiled.

“You didn’t…?” Fusco asked and thought there were so many questions to finish that sentence. “Bite anyone?” He heard her say no, but he still checked his phone to see if anyone called it in.

“You – I’ll deal with later,” Shaw warned him, and turned her attention to Zoe. “Here’s what I need you to do,” she said, taking the Fixer through her next job.

Zoe took listened attentively and took the pictures. “I’ll find her,” she assured her friend.

Zoe started to leave when Janine turned back to Sameen. “You were great today, Shaw,” she assured her boss.

“Yeah? Thanks,” Sameen said, realizing it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.

“I’m starting without you…,” called Fusco from the kitchen.

“If I didn’t think I’d have to answer to his girlfriend, I might hurt him,” Shaw declared.

“If you can handle Conner, you can handle Detective Fusco,” Janine pointed out.

Sameen went into the kitchen. Janine held the door opened and mouthed to Lionel: “Play nice!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed and then told Shaw to try the ribs Isabelle made. “Delicious!”

* * *

Barbecue sauce did nothing to enhance Sameen’s appearance, but Root didn’t seem to mind when she Facetimed later that evening. Seeing her wife’s image come into view only made Root swoon. Shaw did her best to push her hair back, but it just wouldn’t listen.

“Look, it’s Mommy,” Sameen said and held the phone so Root could see both of them.

“Oh, I miss you!” Root said, her heart swelling with the feeling of disconnect. “Time slows down here without you.”

“Here, too,” Shaw said.

“I survived log lifting,” Root said, sticking out her chest in pride.

“I _survived_ a play date!” Shaw said, willing to bet her day was tougher.

“Oh, I forgot about that!” Root confessed.

Michael then babbled her version of how she was nervous at first, but then felt better when Sameen got on the floor and the other kids came to them and even Conner, the biter, was nice. “I think she really enjoyed it,” Root laughed at the long string of jabbering her daughter did; her face full of expressions.

“She was great, Root. She might have growled at a kid, but she joined in and really enjoyed it,” Shaw said, proud of her offspring.

“Did Pete come?” Root singled out the father worried about his marriage.

“Yeah, he was here, Nice guy,” Shaw noted.

“Just the best,” Root concurred. “He’s worried…,” she started to share because the man had confided in Root that he didn’t know what to do.

“We’re taking care of that,” Shaw said, nonchalantly.

“We?” Root asked, intrigued.

“I thought I’d keep Zoe Morgan busy so she doesn’t completely destroy my assistant,” Shaw teased.

Michael squirmed and rubbed her eyes. “Ask Isabelle to get her ready while you shower,” Root suggested, biting her lip.

Isabelle was more than happy to get the very sleepy child ready for bed. “I’ll bring her back in after her bottle,” she said, which gave Sameen plenty of time to shower.

Root was on a different time schedule. She quickly finished expressing her milk and put the pump away. “Take me with you,” she begged as Sameen set her phone up to face the shower.

* * *

Root was pretty sure she knew what heaven was going to be like. It was the perfect respite from the drudgery of military base life. “God, please tell me you forgot a towel,” Root quietly prayed and sure enough, Sameen emerged clean, wet, and naked. Root could hardly hold the phone as her wife came closer to her.

“Fast enough?” Shaw laughed, bending over and providing a view that would be seared into Root’s memory forever.

“The only thing I want _on_ you when I come home… is a smile,” Root pleaded.

“That I can do,” Shaw promised and swayed her shoulders in a sexy move that made Root shut her eyes tightly and bite her lip hard.

This would explain why Root never heard Major Davenport barge in the room, surprised to find anyone in there. “Recruit Groves! How are you?” he asked and noticed the strange look on Root’s face. “Is that Captain Shaw?” he asked and turned the phone around to say hello to his favorite officer.

Shaw had been really making the most of her few minutes with her wife, and had put her hands up in her hair, pushing it all upward as she moved around. “I miss you so much, Sweetie,” she finally said into the phone, batting her eyes for effect.

“I miss you, too, Shaw,” Davenport said and quickly returned the phone to Root. He would have been embarrassed that he intruded on a private moment – even one that was explicitly prohibited. But the man just loved teasing the life out of Shaw. “As you were,” he said upon leaving. “Both of you,” he laughed. He locked the door on the way out.

* * *

Downtown, in a quiet restaurant with very few patrons, a well-dressed woman sat across from a suited man. Zoe walked in with Janine and asked her to wait at the bar. “This won’t take long,” Zoe assured her because catching someone in the middle of an affair was child’s play. Janine watched as her partner sashayed her way to their table and sat down.

“You don’t know me,” Zoe said to the surprised couple, “…but my employer knows you; and trust me, honey; that’s not a good thing.”

Within minutes, the Fixer had shown the pictures of the two of them together.

Then, the coup de grâce; pictures of her husband with the two children. “And you wonder why little Conner is biting?” Zoe shook her head at his mother.

Janine watched her smooth operator of a girlfriend.  She smiled as the man leaped up from the table and patted the errant mother on her back to comfort her.  The woman got up and thanked Zoe; promising to return home to ask forgiveness. Zoe agreed that was the best for all of them. 

She returned to the bar, ready to sit down for a nightcap, when her girlfriend pulled her hard - and into a kiss.  "God, you are such a badass," she said to Zoe.  "A really kind and caring... badass."


	105. The Same, but Different

That spontaneous intrusion by Major Davenport had little effect on Root, who simply closed her eyes that night and kept that last image of her wife in clear view. She couldn’t wait to get home to touch that skin, feel those lips, and every other part of Shaw’s body on hers. It had only been two days and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Unbeknownst to her superiors, the hardest part of this entire ordeal for Root – had nothing to do with anything they could throw at her. The separation was utmost in her mind. In spite of that, she slept peacefully, thinking of Shaw without the towel.

Sameen was asleep before her head hit the pillow. It seemed play dates were far more exhausting that she had ever anticipated. Both women had been crawling on their stomachs that day; but only Shaw had toddlers laying all over her. Both she and Michael slept through the night.

The couple who didn’t get much sleep was the Fixer and her greatest admirer. Watching her partner in action was a complete turn-on for Janine. Zoe was so smooth, so confident, and there was an air about her that was electric. Janine truly admired all of those things. She could hardly wait to get Zoe home, to demonstrate just how sexy she thought that performance was.

“I’m going to take you to work more often!” the Fixer declared when she realized her lover’s quick hands had dispersed her clothing, once they were inside the spacious apartment.

Zoe got to say little else because Janine was kissing her repeatedly as she maneuvered her into the bedroom. She may have been touting what a strong woman her girlfriend was, but Janine’s hands were pushing and pulling with quickness, challenging Zoe to keep up. When she realized she couldn’t match the younger woman’s enthusiasm; Zoe surrendered and enjoyed the tender, yet definite, manipulations.

When Janine had pushed her lover into an abyss of explosions, she lay back, next to her. “God, you just walked over to that table; you orchestrated the whole thing! And in the end, you probably saved that marriage. I mean, you were so quiet about it all; but I could tell by the look on that woman’s face; you got to her,” Janine exclaimed excitedly, and then turned to face the woman she was heaping the praise upon. “You’re _really_ good at this, aren’t you?” It really wasn’t a question.

If Zoe’s clients were allowed to give her ratings, she would have received five stars every time. Her reputation was solid and based on her personal set of skills that got the job done. Her motto was she either completed the job, or she didn’t take their money. She never had to do that. But the Fixer never had anyone notice that, in spite of how cool and calm she was; she really did care about the people involved in these transactions. It took someone like Janine to notice what went on behind the curtain.

“Thank you,” Zoe said and she meant – _for noticing me, and not just the Fixer persona_.

Blue eyes stared at her. Zoe watched as they suddenly seemed to gleam. “And _hot_ ; you were really hot,” the younger woman said, rolling onto of Zoe and kissing her passionately.

* * *

Over breakfast the next morning; Janine was deep in thought about all the strong women she knew. “You know who I think is a total stealthy badass?” she said, as Zoe fixed them scrambled eggs and English muffins.

“Oh, honey; I _know_ who the ultimate badass is in your life,” Zoe smiled because she accepted her lover’s fascination with Shaw.

“No!” Janine smiled, clearing indicating her girlfriend was wrong. “I said stealthy! Shaw’s badassery arrives before she even enters the room. She sat there tapping the top of the fork to her chin. “Azar,” she finally answered when Zoe didn’t offer her answer.

“Really?” Zoe said and could understand why. “I could see that.”

“Right? She’s quiet; she’s always calm; she’s got that voice that commands your attention,” she said of the woman’s deep, warm, accented tone. “She’s got eyes that could scare the hell out of you.”

“Yeah,” Zoe laughed at her lover’s assessment. “I see where Shaw gets that death glare from.”

* * *

The novelty of getting through the day without Root was wearing thin for Sameen. One look at the scowl on her face that morning, warned her coworkers to keep their distance.

“I picked the _wrong_ day to bring croissants,” Fusco said when he saw her coming down the hallway.

“What?” Janine said, thinking this was not the day for change. “Go! I’ll get some,” she said, running out to procure the right food.

Fusco was sitting in his designated seat, trying to hide the bag, but with no success. “This is _not_ going to be good,” he predicted.

* * *

If only Root could have called that morning, to take the edge off of Shaw’s missing, but she was out in the field before the sun had even risen.

“I’m not saying it’s not important to simulate conditions of war,” Root was sharing with her Drill Sergeant as she stood in line, “… but maybe energy bars should become a staple for the troops. We have all these pockets and they don’t take up much room.”

“Do you have ideas on how to improve _every_ aspect of marine life, Recruit?” he barked.

Root wasn’t one to brag, but the truth was, she had thought of a dozen ideas just standing there in line. “Well, yes,” she said truthfully - her whole face smiling.

“Recruit! If you do not make it through that obstacle course in the designated time, I am going to think of a punishment that will wipe that smile off your face!” he threatened.

“Okay, but if I do… can you think about the energy bar proposition?” Root countered unfazed.

Root got through the course in record time, mostly because her arm was feeling much better and she could lean on it. She shimmied under the wire and pulled herself through so quickly, her fellow marines clapped for her. She waived from the other end at her CO.

“That woman would kill me if she were to be here for six weeks,” he admitted.

Root enjoyed the short breaks they got because it gave her a chance to ask her fellow recruits questions about why they joined and what they expected out of their service. Some were die-hard patriots; and she could hear in their reasons a true commitment to country and service. Some did it for the promise of job training; in hopes of a better future. She wondered what a younger Sameen Shaw would have answered if she had been there. No matter what the topic, these small discussions gave Root insight into what Sameen might have gotten out of being a marine. She could see the comradery forming already among the troop members. She noted the respect that certain officers commanded.

But Root was like the Trojan Horse behind the guarded walls. And she made up her mind to try and introduce as many benevolent ideas as was feasible. Everything she talked about gave the IT Team Commanders something to consider besides accuracy of weapons.

“These drone are lighter and can carry up to fifty pounds,” Root explained in one session.

“What kind of weapon would they carry?” someone asked.

“Actually, I was thinking they could carry medical supplies to remote locations,” Root said so nicely that it caught them off guard. “It would help the villages trust the marines when they finally did appear to help.”

If it weren’t for the fact that Root could talk circles around the best of them in the room when it came to the technology involved, they might not have even considered her humanitarian proposals.

“We could do it before the army does it,” one Commander suggested to his team.

* * *

Shaw’s success that day had little to do with convincing anyone of anything other than keeping people out of her way.

“That _better_ be donuts,” she grumbled and dropped her phone because she had checked it for the tenth time since she sat down. She didn’t even notice the bead of perspiration on her BFF’s forehead.

“Well, uh, it’s….,” Fusco was about to confess, when a similar looking bag flew over the partition in his direction. He reached up and grabbed it, just as Shaw picked her head up. “Here you go…,” he said and prayed there were jelly donuts in the bag that fell from the sky.

“Thanks,” Shaw said, pulling out one of the biggest donuts he had ever seen in his life.

“Oh, thank God,” he blurted out.

Shaw shook her head, and tried to enjoy the jelly filled pastry, but even they didn’t taste good.

 

“What’s wrong?” Fusco asked bravely. “Missing Root?”  
“What? No!” Shaw immediately responded because she worried if Fusco could see it, the world would see it. But it was the reality – and Sameen truthfully wanted to shout to the world how much she missed her. So, she changed her answer to – “Yes; I really do. It’s killing me, Lionel.”

_Lionel_? She never called him that unless she was being very un-Shaw-like. He stared at her to see if there were any other discernible clues – like crying or worse. “You know, Shaw…,” he started slowly, feeling his way through the darkness of a calm Sameen, “…maybe you want to … you know, go talk… to somebody.” His head jerked in the direction of his girlfriend’s office.

Much to his surprise… and relief…. she thought it over. “Yeah, maybe,” she said because part of her felt this feeling of missing Root so much was… in part… the woman’s doing. “She did encourage me,” she said matter-of-factly.

Now, Fusco was afraid he just fed his girlfriend to the lions. “You know, that’s what she does… to everybody,” he assured her.

“It can be annoying,” Shaw said.

“Yeah,” Fusco agreed because Iris didn’t always turn that off when she was home with him. He was just taking a gulp of coffee, when Shaw asked:

“When are you going to marry that woman, Fusco? You’re not getting any younger!”

He choked and spit the coffee out; hitting his tie and Shaw’s eye.

“What the hell, Fusco!” she pulled back.

“Oh man; this is a new tie,” he moaned. “Why don’t you ask Reese and Carter that!”

“I’m sure they would agree you’re not getting any younger AND you’re not going to do better!” Shaw pointed out, missing the point. “Oh, I get it. Don’t worry; I’ll ask them at dinner tonight. It would seem everyone has picked a time to be with me this week. Or should I say…,” Shaw said and shouted over the partition; “…. _THEY’VE BEEN ASSIGNED A TIME_!”

The announcement that Sameen caught on that someone was orchestrating her invitations that week might have scared mere mortals. But Janine Reynolds didn’t flinch.

“I know what you’re doing,” Shaw informed her assistant on the way out. She pointed her fingers to her own eyes and then back at Janine. What was supposed to be an intimidation tactic only made the assistant smile. She liked Shaw keeping an eye on her.

“I’m going down to see…,” Shaw said.

“Yes, I know,” Janine smiled which only confirmed that she had manipulated her entire schedule.

“But how did you know… I mean, now?” Shaw asked, pointing to Iris’ office and back.

“Don’t ask questions,” Fusco warned her as he left, too.

* * *

Of all the people put on notice that week, only Doctor Campbell’s was vague and unassigned. “She’ll need you by Wednesday,” Janine told the woman, having the uncanny ability to predict when her boss would need something.

Iris correctly assumed Shaw would appear when she needed to. So, she didn’t seem at all surprised when Sameen walked in, unannounced, and sat down on the couch.

“Let’s do this,” Shaw said, in her usual businesslike manner.

“Of course,” Iris smiled, taking her pad and pen and sitting across from Sameen in her chair. “How are you?’

“Everyone, especially the man who shall be nameless, probably thinks I’m in here complaining about how you got me in touch with my feelings and now I’m in agony missing Root,” Shaw began and looked around for the candy dish. “Hershey’s, Doc,” she took a moment out to chastise the therapist for only having peppermint hard candies available.

“I’ll make a note,” Iris smiled. “Tell me about… being in _agony_?” she asked, using Sameen’s word.

As many times as Sameen swore she wouldn’t give this woman a word to give back to her; she was always impressed at how well Iris was listening – and did that exact thing.

“You’re good,” Shaw paid the compliment and decided to get comfortable by lying down on the couch. “Here’s the thing, Doc; I get it. You open your heart because you want to feel the good things; like when Michael kisses me or Root is near me in a crowded room, but she makes everyone else disappear, “ the patient explained.

Iris was tempted to write these expressions down because they were so tender and poignant.

“And so in letting those walls down; the other stuff comes, too. The feelings that I thought would drown me, right? Like missing someone so badly your heart aches until you swear it’s going to break into a million pieces. Or when someone comes near Michael and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but they don’t mean her any harm, but my heart doesn’t know that until it’s wrapped into a knot,” Shaw continued.

Iris sat there, slightly out of view and smiling. She thought back to Sameen’s first appearance in her office – remanded there by a company policy that was not always enforced – and kicking and screaming the entire time she was there. Slowly, Shaw began to trust herself – and the process – and yes, even Iris, - and allowed her feelings to come forth. Something she swore to the therapist she would never do. And here she was, all this time later; spouting insight after insight about what she understood about her feelings.

“You know what I think, Doc?” Shaw asked, turning to look over at the woman who was hanging on her every word. “I think the more you love someone; the more it hurts,” Shaw summed up.

“Yes,” Iris agreed and felt her voice crack a little.

“So, Root and I will get through this and be all the better for it,” Shaw decided. Then, she sat back up and decided that was all she had to say. She smiled at Iris and stood up.

Iris did the same and followed as Sameen walked to the door. It was, perhaps, the shortest session they ever had, and yet Iris felt Sameen had said so much.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Doc,” Shaw said and put out her hand.

In that split second, Iris Campbell felt they had maneuvered past the doctor-patient boundary safely before and rebounded just fine. She reached out and pulled Sameen into a hug; one that Shaw not only accepted, she didn’t let go.

When she finally released her therapist, she decided Fusco had better not let this woman get away.

* * *

While Sameen was working through her feelings; Root was about to have hers twisted into a knot. Her afternoon session was with an expert in a field that the higher ups thought Root could help them with.

“She’s a behavioral expert and hostage negotiator,” the CO explained as he walked Root into her next meeting.

“Oh, how interesting,” Root said, wondering what kind of person gets into that sort of job.

“Recruit Groves; I’d like to introduce you to... Professor Mara Kint; a consultant for the military,” the man made the introductions.

It was the first time since she arrived that Root hesitated or look surprised. She stood there as the spitting image of her wife extended her hand to say hello.

“I’ve heard so much about you, Ms. Groves; I feel as if I already know you,” Mara said.


	106. A  Touch of Confidence

The commanding officer was amazed at the new recruit’s hesitation. She had not skipped a beat in any conversation since she got there. But as he looked over at her, Root’s mouth was opened; but nothing was coming out.

“Are you okay, Recruit Groves?” her CO asked.

“I uhm…I am…,” Root said, unable to complete a thought as she stared at the woman who just introduced herself.

Mara Kint felt the weight of that gaze and smiled, looking at the man who put this meeting together to help. “Is everything okay?” Mara finally asked the woman she had been excited to meet.

The woman’s soft voice broke Root’s reverie. “Oh, what? Oh, yes, yes,” Root said, desperately trying to get her brain back online. “You bear an uncanny resemblance…,” Root got out, but could go no further.

The man in charge wasn’t sure what was going on, but feared his newest recruit chose that very moment to get overwhelmed by the physical and mental pressure of the week. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” he suggested and watched Root nod her head, but say little else. “I have thrown this on Ms. Groves,” he explained to the invited guest. “We struck a very special arrangement with her. A week of intense basic training in exchange for her input on several technology issues we’re trying to address,” he added and nodded for one of his underlings to give Root a cold bottle of water. “Try that,” he smiled at her.

“That’s why I was so excited when I received the call,” Professor Kint said. “And, let me explain just so we’re clear; I _was_ a hostage negotiator, but these days, I teach at a college – behavior sciences, mostly. I consult with Jim, here; on a variety of hostage negotiating courses for recruits.”

Root listened and couldn’t help but sense that under the woman’s upbeat tone, there was an unspeakable sadness. She had to will herself to get back into the conversation. It was as if Sameen had a twin that Root never knew of, who showed up unexpectedly. She tried to look for what she prayed were obvious or glaring differences, but couldn’t find any. ‘ _Mannerisms_ ,’ Root thought and that helped. As much as Mara looked like Shaw, she didn’t have her mannerisms. “Oh, thank God,” Root said out loud and both the professor and the CO looked at her. “I mean; both are tough jobs,” Root tried to cover up.

“Some days I wonder which was easier,” Mara joked and broke the tension. In that moment, she appeared to be a different person to Root. Shaw’s humor was very different.

“Anyway, I was just wondering if the tech world is coming up with anything that might be cutting edge in those fields,” Mara asked.

“Everything I know about hostage negotiating, I learned from Shaw,” Root blurted out and then realized the two were staring at her. “She’s got an excellent aim,” she overshared.

“Sorry?” her CO asked, hoping she didn’t mean that the way it sounded.

“Shaw’s… very convincing,” Root backtracked. “Anyway, as far as technology, we have taken a two prong approach,” the tech genius said, getting back on track. “We have developed advanced cochlear devices and for those more difficult situations, Tasers that can be disguised in things as innocuous as a coffee cup. We’re also working on a program that can sense changes in body language instantly. That might be something that would be helpful,” Root suggested.

“Well, that’s why I asked Professor Kint to come here. I’m going to leave you two to figure out what we might find beneficial,” the CO said.

“Oh, I have to get to another meeting,” Mara announced. “Do you think I could borrow Ms. Groves for dinner?”

“We might be able to arrange that,” the man in charge said because he was ordered to make whatever exceptions were necessary to get the most of their one week recruit.

“Actually, I would prefer if it were on base; at the mess hall,” Root said, much more sensitive to the exceptions now that she was part of the group.

“I’ll order pizzas,” Mara suggested; “… for everyone.”

“That will work,” Root agreed.

Mara Kint thanked her friend and Root and promised to be back for dinner. She just hoped she’d get a chance to speak to Root alone about the real reason she wanted to talk to her.

* * *

Shaw was too tired to fight the inevitable. When Reese came in and announced he and Joss were taking her to dinner, she didn’t even bother to protest.

“Fine,” Shaw said, throwing up her hands. “But it better be steak!”

“And I’m getting you out of bowling,” Janine promised as she looked over the schedule on her IPad. The totally unnecessary pencil was stuck behind her ear; certainly more for effect that use.

“Good,” Shaw said, thinking she had done enough for Fusco that week. It reminded her that she wanted to talk to Reese and Joss about him.

* * *

Joss Carter knew that what might help the miserable spouse was some home cooked food. She wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the fact that her boyfriend kept repeating; “She’s going to hate it. She won’t eat it. He even suggested she wear her bullet proof vest when serving the chicken and dumplings that was her grandmother’s secret recipe.

“Taste this!” Joss insisted and gave Reese a spoonful of the food.

“It’s.. wow! That’s really good,” John admitted.

“You see?” Joss replied.

“She’s not going to eat it,” Reese quickly added.

* * *

Shaw had received a crash course in being the perfect guest from – the woman who had recently become a card carrying member of that group. She shoved a bottle of wine, a bottle of scotch, a bouquet of flowers, and the latest _Call of Duty_ video game under Shaw’s arms.

“Are you sure Carter won’t think I’m asking her out with all this stuff?” Shaw asked, thinking it was a bit much as Janine walked her to the elevator.

“Don’t be silly,” Janine said, waiting until her boss approached the door. “And I’ve asked Isabelle to leave you something for later, you know, in case you don’t like dinner.”

“What does that mean?” Shaw asked, when her assistant gently pushed her inside.

“Joss is an excellent cook,” Janine answered.

“What does that mean?” Shaw repeated, but the door was closing.

“She likes to use family recipes,” Janine shouted and pushed to door closed with her hands, in case Shaw was trying to press the open door button. Of course, she couldn’t even if she wanted to with all the things in her arms.

“What? _Recipes_?” Shaw repeated and looked at the other occupants for an answer. Many of them shrugged their shoulders and looked away, praying their descent would be quick.

Twenty minutes later, Shaw appeared at Joss’ apartment; kicking the door with her foot since her hands were otherwise occupied.

“Is she?” Joss inquired about the loud bang.

“You ain’t heard anything yet,” Reese cautioned her. He then went to answer the door, hoping to prevent the clash of the titans.

“Shaw,” he said as she stood there with her arms full.

“Reese,” she answered and waited for the tall man to catch on that she needed help. He was too busy trying to find the right way to ask her to be polite.

“A little help?” she finally said when he didn’t offer.

“Oh, sure; sorry,” he said and took the scotch bottle.

“Oh, brother,” Shaw said and walked in. “What is that…?”

“Joss, Shaw is here,” John called out and rushed past his guest because he hadn’t figured out how to warn her.

Joss wiped her hands on her apron and went to greet Sameen. “Scotch?” she said when she saw the bottle in John’s hands. “She knows how to impress you,” she teased. “Let me help you,” the woman said of the rest of the items in Shaw’s arms. “Are those for me?”

“Yes,” Shaw answered and handed her the flowers.

“ _Call of Duty_?” Joss asked.

“For Taylor,” she said because she wanted to get her questions answered – like – _what was that aroma._

“That is so sweet, Shaw!” Joss said and hugged her. “How are you doing?”

“Good, I’m good; hey, listen…,” Shaw tried, but Joss was telling John to open the wine. He smiled, but opened the scotch because he knew his friend would need the more potent drink.

“Cheers, Shaw,” John said and shoved the glass in her hand.

“Thanks, I was wondering…,” she tried again, but Joss was kidding John about not giving her the wine. Shaw watched as John actually laughed – well, smiled, at the teasing. “I was going to ask…,” she tried again, but this time Joss was asking John to put the closed lid container with dinner on the table.

“Could you take this in?” Joss asked Shaw so nicely that she took the bread basket and walked inside to the dining room table.

“Reese!” Shaw whispered sharply.

“Now, I know this might not be what you’re used to, but I promise you, you’re going to love it,” Joss assured her fussy friend.

“Shaw?” John said, resigned to the fact that he was about to be caught between two powerhouses. He offered to fill her glass and she accepted.

“I’ll deal with you later,” she whispered to him when Joss went back to get the butter.

“I talked her out of the chicken and black bean with chorizo,” he said in his defense.

“What is that?” she spat, but when Joss entered she changed her tone and voice and added; “… that smells so good!”

Reese cringed at what a terrible liar his friend was. Joss wasn’t the least bit surprised.

“You know, Shaw; I knew when John invited you to dinner, good old steak wouldn’t do. I wanted you to try something new; some comfort food that I had growing up. It’s a family recipe and I swear, if you don’t like it; I’ll go make you a steak,” Joss offered.

It was very sweet, but it also reminded Sameen why she might want comfort food.

“How is Root doing?” Joss asked, as she prepared the bowl.

“She’s good, I think,” Shaw said truthfully as she eyed the food suspiciously. “I’m going to talk to her tonight. She sent a text.”

Then, proving she not only knew how to cook; she also knew her friend; Joss put the food in front of Shaw.

Sameen looked down at the combination of vegetables, chicken, and dumplings on her plate. She smiled back at Joss and took a spoonful.

It was… one of the most delicious things she ever tasted.

“Wow!” Shaw said, so surprised she didn’t have to feign an illness to leave. “This is… wow!”

“I knew you’d like it,” Joss smiled and noticed how relieved Reese looked.

“This is really good. Reese!  How come you said I wouldn’t like Joss’ cooking?” Shaw said, turning it back on her friend.

“Hey, I never…,” John said and when Shaw gave him a knowing look, he knew he had been had. “Very funny, Shaw.”

Sameen not only enjoyed it; she devoured it. And the homemade coffee crumb cake Joss made.

A couple of hours later, Shaw was thanking her hostess for the delicious meal. She was rushing back to meet her mother at the apartment and to talk to Root.

“This was really nice. I appreciate it,” Shaw said, knowing her friends were trying their best to keep her busy while Root was away.

* * *

Root was finishing up her dinner at the same time. Mara Kint had brought enough pizzas for the entire platoon. And while everyone indulged in the midweek treat, she did manage to get Root alone.

“I’m really interested in discussing your ideas further, Ms. Groves,” she said and Root asked her to call her by her nickname. I’ve been asked to join a former colleague from my law enforcement days on a project,” Mara explained. “And it will involve using my hostage negotiating and behavior study skills. Have you ever heard of… Onira-Tech?”

Perhaps in a gesture to help Root understand this was an question off the record; Mara Kint reached over and touched Root’s hand.

A broad smile appeared on Root’s face when she felt that touch.

“So, you’ve heard of them?” Mara asked, misinterpreting Root’s grin.

“No, never,” Root responded. “And you are… so different.”

Mara smiled and noticed that Root’s entire body language seemed to change. Something happened that cleared every wrinkle off her brow.

She had no way of knowing, but that touch was concrete confirmation that this woman – was _nothing_ like her Shaw.


	107. Time Slows Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sarah's IG account continues to fuel these chapters. If you see her; please tell her I said thanks!

Sameen rushed home to see her daughter; stopping only briefly to tell Isabelle what she ate for dinner. “It was white…with those things. And chicken,” she summed it up.

“Chicken with dumplings?” Isabelle guessed with the fewest clues possible.

“Okay, sure,” Shaw said. “It wasn’t bad.”

“Do you want me…?” the chef offered.

“NO!” Shaw said emphatically. “No, once… was good. Too many… of those _things_.”

“Those _things_? You mean _vegetables_?” Isabelle guessed right again.

“Yeah, those _things_ ,” Shaw said and shuddered.

* * *

Azar had readied her granddaughter for bed and noticed that the child was particularly ornery that night. “She’s missing Root,” Azar said, handing Sameen the squirming baby.

“How am I going to make her understand?” Shaw asked, sincerely. “Oh, here; look,” she said, showing her a calendar. “Today is Wednesday; tomorrow is Thursday, and then we see Mommy.”

Michael listened, but whenever _then_  was – wasn’t right now. Her lower lip quivered.

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said, getting worried.

“Maybe read her a story?” Azar suggested.

Sameen thought it over. “No, I know what she needs,” she decided. Shaw took her daughter to the couch and sat down with her. “Let’s talk about the things we miss most about mommy, okay?” Shaw suggested, getting them both comfortable.

Impressed that her daughter was proactively encouraging her daughter to express her feelings, Azar smiled as she quietly left.

As if she totally got what Shaw was suggesting, Michael let out a loud squeal. “Yeah, well I miss watching you do that with mommy,” Shaw said, figuring Michael was saying – _enough with the bottles already_. “What else?” she encouraged Michael. The baby seemed to be thinking it over when she emitted another burst. “Oh, I like how she does that, too. You know what I miss? The way Mommy’s eyes smile before her lips do? Have you noticed that?” Shaw asked her daughter who she swore nodded her head. “Yeah, this is hard, honey; but we only have to wait two more…,” Shaw explained, putting up her fingers, “…more days. Do you think we can do that?” Michael liked the sound of Shaw’s voice and was feeling better. She let out a long yawn and agreed. “Yeah, I think we can make it,” Shaw agreed as Michael dozed off next to her on the couch.

“Hmm,” Shaw said to herself. There really was something to sharing her feelings. It didn’t make her feel worse; she actually felt better telling Michael how much she missed Root, too. She bent down and kissed her baby’s head and quietly brought her upstairs. Then, she settled on their bed; waiting for Root’s text.

* * *

Touch was playing a part in Root’s mood swing as well. That small gesture of touching her hand – totally innocent – was the proof Root didn’t even know she needed. And being the upfront person that she was, she decided to share what her smile was all about. “I must admit, I thought you looked a lot like my wife,” she shared over her first piece of pizza. “I mean, you do, but you don’t,” the genius said cryptically.

“Oh?” Mara smiled, wondering if there was a compliment in there somewhere.

Root put the food down and wiped her hands on the paper napkin; all the time staring at Mara. “It’s funny when all we can see at first are the _similarities_ and it takes a minute to notice the _differences_ ,” she mused. “Kind of the opposite of what you wish we could evolve to with people, right?”

“Good point,” Mara said, finding this woman’s thought process fascinating. “What are the differences that you noticed?” she zoned in on.

Now, Root folded her hands and stared. A thoughtful question deserved a thoughtful answer. “I think your facial symmetry is very close, but your eyes are different. Sameen doesn’t smile as easily as you do,” Root said and that brought a smile to Mara’s face.

“Why is that?” she asked, wanting to know more about this couple.

“She’s cautious and veeerrry protective,” Root smiled, but that made her look away as she got lost in images of Shaw. “She got rock hard pecs and abs and… her legs are amazing,” she floated off.

Mara smiled and suppressed the chuckle. “She sounds amazing.”

“She is!” Root agreed immediately. “We really haven’t been apart for this long,” she confessed, because she could feel the fever breaking out the more she thought of Shaw. “I really miss her.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” Mara smiled. She had no doubt from the observations she made from first meeting this woman that she was very much in love. “It’s been my experience,” the behavior expert shared, “… that you can tell a lot about a person by their reaction when they say their partner’s name.”

Root’s entire face smiled and a rose tint filled her cheeks. “Yes,” she agreed.

“Root, I know I don’t have a lot of time with you right now; so, if I could just check to see if you’d even be interested in working on some programs that Onira-Tech is developing. We could really use someone as tech savvy as you,” Mara said. “But, I know it’s not a half hour conversation, so maybe we could pick this up when you’re back in New York?”

Root smiled, but not her full face grin. She was trying to decipher why this woman was being so secretive. It wasn’t that she was concerned about the content of Mara’s proposal; she was more concerned with what Shaw would think… or do… if it were something dangerous. “That sounds good,” Root decided.

Just as Root was finishing her food, her phone beeped. Tired of waiting for her wife to text; Shaw took matters into her own hands. She sat up in bed, flipped her hair to one side and stuck her tongue all the way out and to the side, and snapped the picture. The image appeared on Root’s phone. She grabbed it so tightly; it flew out of her hand, directly in front of Mara. She looked down at the image and then up at Root’s wide-eyed expression.

“Your wife?” Mara smiled and handed back the phone. She swore the ever calm recruit’s hand was shaking.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Root asked, but was lost in staring at the phone. “I have to go,” she said and jumped up and ran towards the door. She was almost through it when she remembered. She came back and thanked Mara for the pizzas for everyone. “Call me next week.”

Mara Kint sat there and smiled as she watched one of the most interesting people she had every met rush out the door.

* * *

“I miss you!” Root said as soon as Shaw’s face appeared on her screen. She didn’t even care that she was rushing through the mess hall with her illegal phone out. “I miss that tongue!!” she shouted out and a passing group smiled and laughed. “I’m going to do things….”

“ROOT?” Shaw said because she could hear the others who heard her, even if Root was oblivious. “Can you go somewhere private?”

Root looked around and found an empty office that was unlocked. “How is Michael? Is she asleep? I miss you both! Is Janine looking out for you? I bet she is. Is Michael okay? “ she asked in rapid succession.

“Okay, so I guess we’re on hyper speed now?” Shaw teased. “Let’s see; Michael is wonderful. She misses you and we talked about the things we missed the most about you tonight. She misses breast feedings,” Sameen began to answer is order. “She was cranky tonight, but after she got to tell me how much she missed you, she settled down and fell asleep.”

“Oh, that is so sweet. I can’t believe I missed that!” Root said.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll talk again, and you’ll be home soon,” Shaw reminded her. “Janine made people sign up … literally, Root; she made them sign up to have breakfast or dinner or I don’t know what else. I was with Carter and Reese tonight. She made…,” Shaw whispered as if someone could hear. “…chicken with _stuff_!”

“Stuff?” Root asked, but mostly because she was staring at the lips that divulged that horror.

“Yes, and Reese knew it. And I bought him scotch!” Sameen shared. “But hey, how are you doing? Anyone giving you a hard time?” her overprotective wife asked.

_Oh, the temptation to say someone was – just to see Shaw charge in on a white horse and rescue her!!!_

“Root? Root?” Shaw repeated to bring her wife back from that fantasy.

“No, everyone is really nice,” she said instead.

“Really _nice_?” Shaw asked incredulously. “Where are you? Boot Camp – Disney version?”

“Speaking of that,” Root said, and wanted to tell her wife about the interesting woman she met, but she was totally lost in those dark eyes. “I’m totally ripping your clothes off when I see you.”

“O..kay; but you know I’m coming to get you on Friday and we’ll be in public,” Shaw teased.

“Oh,” Root said, and then smiled; “In that case, wear something that won’t be too cumbersome.”


	108. It’s Not What You Know, but Who You Know

Shaw smiled at how quickly Root could get unhinged and want to touch her. “I really miss you,” Shaw said softly.

Root was crouched down on the floor in the dark office, totally out of sight of anyone passing by. She ran her finger along the screen and across Shaw’s face. “I miss those lips.”

“Just… my lips?” Shaw teased, sticking out her tongue again. “Sorry I had to take drastic measures to get your attention, but what had you so busy?”

Root was lost in that image again and it took a second to reply. “Oh, nothing. There is…I met… a woman that I met. Her name… is… she’s a …. Something… and wants me to help.”

“Okay, is this the _fill in the blank_ part of our talk? So, you’re trying to tell me you’ve met a woman? Are you letting me down easy? Is that what this is?” Sameen teased because she never expected that the woman had a name.

“No!” Root laughed. “Mara; she’s very nice. Oh, my God, Sameen; she looks a lot like you!”

“I have a doppelganger?” Sameen asked suspiciously. “Are you sure …you could tell us apart?” she running her tongue across her bottom lip.

Root’s eyes froze at the sight and she didn’t answer. Finally, words formed to make sentences. “I could!” Root assured her wife. “At first, she seemed a lot like you, but then she _touched_ me…,” Root was relaying without listening to how that sounded.

“Excuse me?” Shaw said, sitting up straight in bed.

“What? Oh, no; she touched my hand,” Root tried to explain with a soft laugh.

Sameen saw nothing funny about this. “Why would she touch your hand? What is her name, Root?”

Root could tell by the serious expression on Shaw’s face that this was not going the way she planned. “She’s lovely, really,” Root tried, but only stalled the answer.

“Does _lovely_ have a name?” Shaw said and Root was truly caught between providing the simple answer and calming her wife … and getting completely turned on by how Sameen was overreacting.

“Her name?” Root said, aware that the deep breaths Shaw was taking were making her robe open up and exposing her cleavage. “Sameen…,” and there were supposed to be a lot of words after her name, but Root was gone. Her finger was trying to get through that screen and touch the flesh she craved.

One look at where Root’s eyes were and Sameen grabbed her robe to cover up. “Root! Focus here.”

“Oh, I’m focused _there_ , believe me,” Root smiled, but Shaw was still in stern mode. “Her name is Mara and she works with the marines here on hostage negotiations.”

“Is she in the military?” Shaw asked.

“No, she’s a consultant. She gives workshops for the troops. Anyway, she works for a tech company and was wondering if she could pick my brain or something,” Root said because that image of Shaw had appeared on her phone and she wasn’t listening.

“Could you be a little vaguer?” Shaw huffed.

“It’s your fault!” Root pouted. “You sent that picture of your tongue and I couldn’t listen to anything she said, really.” Root’s raised eyebrows all but confirmed she was pushing this back on Shaw.

“What’s her name?” Sameen asked again.

“Mara Kint,” Root remembered.

“What? Mara what? What kind of name is that?” Shaw balked.

“Dutch?” Root ventured a guess.

“That’s a half-ass name if you ask me,” Shaw said because she didn’t like the woman already.

“I’ll tell her,” Root teased.

“Are you seeing her again?” Shaw immediately asked.

“No, I mean, yes; not here. We’ll see her up in New York,” Root said, flattered at her wife’s reaction.

Just then, in spite of the lights being out, a light tap was heard on the door. Root looked at Shaw via the phone. “I wonder who…?” she said when it happened again. Deciding she should see if it was her CO looking for her, she got up to answer the door. “Come with me,” she said to Shaw as if she had a choice. She put the phone behind her back when she opened the door a bit.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mara said when she saw the darkened room behind Root. “I was looking for a place to do some work and they suggested I try in here.” Root could see the woman look behind her to make sure she saw correctly and the woman was sitting in the dark.

Root had no explanation other than holding up her phone and saying – “It’s Shaw!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mara smiled and backed away. “I’ll find another place. Thanks, Root.”

That very brief exchange gave Shaw all the information she wanted. She hardly got a look at the woman, but she heard Root’s tone – and it was very pleasant. She immediately grabbed a pen and wrote the woman’s name down… on the only surface she could find.

“That was Mara,” Root said, closing the door and getting back to her wife.

“Yeah, I heard,” Shaw said and meant – ‘ _I heard how nice you spoke to her_.’

“I can’t wait to see you, Sweetie,” Root said.

“Me, too,” Shaw said, refocusing. “Michael is going to be so happy to see you.”

“I miss you guys so much! You were right, Shaw,” Root eased into. “I couldn’t take any more time away.”

“Yeah,” Shaw said, feeling the same.

“Tomorrow, I go to the obstacle course and have to pass a battery of tests,” Root said, almost enthusiastically.

“Root, you know they try to make you fail, right?” Shaw reminded her wife this wasn’t supposed to be easy. “They want to weed people out.”

“Oh, I know,” smiled an effervescent recruit, “… but I’m _not_ one of them.”

Shaw dropped her head and laughed. “No, you’re not,” she agreed.

“Did you hurt yourself?” Root asked her wife, and moved her finger to her chest to indicate where she was looking. “I see something…”

“No. Where?” Shaw asked, pulling at her robe to see what Root was looking at.

“Oh, I thought… I saw something…there,” Root all but giggled, leading Sameen where she wanted her.

Shaw pulled her robe further on cue to inspect the spot her wife indicated. There was nothing there. “Did you just??” Shaw asked, falling for it.

Root burst out laughing, but heard her name being shouted out by her CO and decided her time was up. She blew Shaw a kiss and said she’d text tomorrow.

Shaw stared at the phone long after the image of her wife disappeared. She took a deep breath, feeling the ache in her heart and the warm feeling seeing Root brought. Then, she looked down and saw the name she wrote on the sheet. “Oh, she’s not going to like that,” she said of the ink stain where she had quickly written the woman’s name.

* * *

Shaw got up and went into Root’s office. “Okay, brainiac, “ she said when she sat at the computer. “Who is Mary… Mira…Mya.. something… Kent?”

‘ _Mara Kint is a behavioral expert professor, former hostage negotiator, and part time consultant to the USMC_ ,’ the Machine reported.

“How did you…never mind,” Shaw said. “What’s her deal?”

‘ _Deal_?’ the Machine echoed back.

“Yeah, am I going to like her or am I going to kick her ass?” Shaw asked, muddying the message even more.

‘ _She displays an interest in Root, but at present, it seems to be based on her admiration for Root’s genius_ ,’ the Machine reported from her behavioral assessment program.

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” Shaw pointed out.

There was silence for a few seconds as the Machine accessed the file she kept on Shaw-isms. She accessed things Shaw liked to hear; her use of particular phrases, and what Root would say in the situation. She came up with this;

‘ _Shaw, you could snap her like a twig.’_

“Okay, good,” Shaw said, because she didn’t like this at all. “Now, can you tell me how to get ink out of silk sheets?” she whispered.

* * *

Across town, someone else was preparing for the next day with even more fervor.

“Are you sure you don’t want to have Shaw to dinner at my place?” Janine asked Zoe as they sat at the kitchen counter in the luxury apartment.

“No, it’s fine. Besides, I got everything you wrote on the list already,” Zoe teased, picking up the piece of paper and letting it unfurl slowly. It was very long.

“You got steaks, right?” Janine asked to be sure.

“Actually, I ordered a cow; she’s in the backyard grazing. This way, Shaw can have as much…,” Zoe was kidding when she saw the concerned look on her partner’s face. She cleared her throat and said; “Steaks, all in the fridge.”

“Okay because Joss had chicken tonight,” Janine reported and made a face.

“She’s a very good cook from what John says,” Zoe reported.

“I’m sure she is, but I think there were a lot of _vegetables_ ,” Janine grimaced.

“Oh, the horror,” Zoe teased.

“Are you sure you don’t mind having it here?” Janine checked again.

“I think you’re wondering if Shaw will be comfortable here,” Zoe interpreted her lover’s concern.

Janine looked around. “Maybe we could have the Yankee game on. She likes the Yankees,” Janine said, her concern palpable.  "Wait, they're not playing tomorrow."

“I bet I could get Aaron Judge to stop by,” Zoe said teasingly, but when she saw the wide eyed expression on Janine’s face; she realized she may have gone too far. “Are you…? Do you…?” the Fixer asked, but she had already opened that door and Janine had burst through it. The expression that met her was one of anticipation and excitement over the idea of having Shaw's favorite baseball player at dinner.

The Fixer slowly reached for her phone and pressed a number. “Why yes it is,” Zoe smiled when the man on the other end asked if the call was in fact from the Zoe Morgan.

“Aaron, I need a small favor. Are you in town tomorrow night?”


	109. Working My Way Back to You

The obstacle course that was set up on Thursday morning was the most grueling so far. It was a race against time and your fellow recruits through muck, mire, and anything the CO could throw at them. Just when they emerged from dragging themselves through mud; powerful water hoses hit them and knocked them over. When they got past the water barrage, the CO’s stayed at the start of the trail, barking at each recruit who didn’t rush through. There rest, collapsed up ahead, waiting for the stragglers.

Each recruit collapsed and fell back on the ground; exhausted by the ordeal. If the purpose was to break them, this was getting very close.

At the almost breaking point, someone noticed that a stack of energy bars appeared up ahead piled in a neat pyramid formation.

“You don’t think they’re poisoned on purpose, do you?” asked a rather suspicious recruit. It did make a lot of sense that this could be a trap; but Root recognized the wrapper.

“Let me look,” she said as the sound of yelling faded behind them. “No, I recognize this. Dig in,” she said.

“Who would have left them here?” another asked, shoving one into his mouth.

“If I had to guess…,” Root said, looking skyward; “I’d say a college freshman with excellent culinary and drone skills.”

* * *

Back in Manhattan, the woman who orchestrated that drop was checking on the person responsible for seeing it through.

“Any problem?” Shaw asked Genrika that morning when the girl visited her at work right before lunch.

The younger woman’s expression all but read – ‘ _how could you doubt me_ ’? “None,” she added. Shaw smiled and put her hand out. “What?” Gen asked to torture her.

“You don’t think I’d let you drop that stuff for my wife to eat without testing to make sure it’s okay, do you?” Shaw smiled slyly.

“How are you and Michael doing?” Gen asked, handing over three of the homemade bars.

Shaw had one stuffed in her mouth before answering; “Dokay.”

“Convincing,” Gen smiled back. “And Root? Is… someone… keeping an eye on her?” and glanced up at a security camera.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, taking a gulp of water to wash down the mouth load of nuts, granola and honey. “You should make a peanut butter one,” she said and Gen went into her backpack and retrieved one. “Are you… holding out on me?” Shaw said, grabbing the bag and going through it. “What is this one?’ she asked.

“Blue…,” Gen started to say the fruit, but Sameen had already thrown it back in. “You and I are having lunch today and I insist I get to pick the place.”

“The _place_ is Parks Deli … in the employee cafeteria,” Shaw corrected her.

“Don’t you want to expand your tastes; try something new?” Gen asked in her youthful exuberance.

Shaw pushed back in her chair and lifted her booted feet onto her desk. “I’m going to give you a second to think about that ridiculous statement because I like you,” she graciously said.

Genrika shook her head, but didn’t give up. “Well, I only agreed because I said I wanted to take you somewhere.”

“What’s with the poor listening skills?” Shaw asked her favorite question when someone didn’t give up.

“Come onnn,” Gen tried whining in Shaw’s native tongue. “Pleaaaseeee.”

“Fine! But you gotta stop that… whatever it is,” Shaw said with disdain.

“I knew you’d understand that,” teased Gen. “Let’s go.”

“Okay, but this counts as my good deed for the month!” Shaw said and got ready to go.

* * *

A very suspicious Janine was on the phone, checking for the third time that everything was set for dinner that night. “Okaygottago!” she said to Zoe, even though it was she who called her.

“HI SHAW!” Janine said, because she had a habit of shouting when she was keeping something from her boss.

“Hi?” Shaw responded and stopped and stared. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing, really. Just…uhm checking on tonight’s dinner. Steak. It’s going to be steak, in case you wanted to know,” Janine blabbered.

“Good. Really, it’s not necessary…,” Shaw said, because she thought maybe Zoe had second thoughts.

“NO! You have to come. I mean, you have to be there!” Janine said, reaching out to grab her hands.

“Okay, okay; but, Morgan’s not going out of her way, is she?” Shaw asked. It wasn’t out of politeness, as much as she did not want to owe Zoe anything.

“Out of her way?” Janine repeated, and wondered how she did get the baseball all-star to agree to come. “I don’t think so?”

“Oh, great,” Shaw said, because that made it sound like she would owe her. “What time?”

“Six; there’s no game tonight; so six,” Janine calculated.

“Look at you; knowing the Yankees’ schedule,” Shaw said impressed.

“What are you wearing?” Genrika asked because she was starting to appreciate Shaw’s taste in clothes.

“Wear that jersey you like so much,” Janine suggested, trying to appear nonchalant.

“My… _Yankee_ jersey?” Shaw asked and became suspicious.

“Yes, that’s the one,” she said.

“Okay,” Shaw agreed. “Listen, if I’m not back from lunch, call Poison Control. I’m letting the Kid pick where we eat.”

Genrika pulled at Shaw as she yelled back that she wasn’t kidding.

* * *

“This is actually a win-win for me,” the woman stated in the elevator going down. “If I make it through lunch, you are off my back. If I don’t make it through lunch, I don’t owe Zoe anything.”

“You’re weird, you know that?” Genrika stated of her Godmother’s logic.

Shaw mimicked that question and the youth announced – “And a baby.”

“You know, Kid; I never feel sorry for Harry, but you… you make me want to feel sorry for him,” Shaw said and then immediately added; “No, no you don’t.”

“What is it with you and Harry?” Gen asked as she pulled Shaw in the direction she wanted her to go. “You know; he took Root in and took really good care of her.”

“Yeah, yeah; I know, I know,” Shaw said because it was a struggle of conflicting feelings for her. “He’s been good to Root, I know.”

“But…?” Gen prompted her.

“I get what he did. I get it… _here_ ,” Shaw said, pointing to her head. “But _here_ …,” she said, moving her finger to her heart. “Would he take a bullet for her?”

Gen turned and looked at Sameen. “Is that the only way you judge a person’s loyalty?” the prodigy asked.

“Well, yeah,” Shaw answered truthfully; not quite catching on that the question was meant to suggest there were other ways.

“You’re being loyal by coming with me to lunch and letting me pick the food,” Gen tried.

“I’m being tired of being nagged is what this is,” Shaw tried to deflect.

“Nice try,” Gen said, because the child often could see right past Sameen’s curtains.

Shaw looked up when they stopped walking and saw a sign for Mexican food. “Oh, good; I like tacos,” she said, but the smile on Gen’s face said they weren’t done. She pulled Sameen a few more feet and entered a restaurant.  
“What… is this?” Shaw asked because nothing about the place smelled familiar. “I don’t like …”

“Hello, Amid,” Gen greeted the owner when he came over.

“Is this your… _special_ friend?” he asked because Gen had told him she was bringing a guest with her.

“Yes,” Gen said and introduced them.

“What does that mean – special friend. There’s nothing special about me,” Shaw contradicted.

“Come,” he said and showed them to a quiet table in the back.

“You know this guy?” the ever suspicious Sameen asked.

“Yes,” Gen confirmed.

“You’re a kid, what are you doing knowing a restaurant owner?” Shaw asked in protective mode.

“I eat,” Gen explained and when the waiter handed them menus, she withdrew Sameen’s so she wouldn’t baulk. “Two chelo-kababs,” she ordered and the man agreed that was an excellent choice.

Shaw could not have disagreed more and was perturbed at what she thought was nothing short of betrayal of her very particular palate.

“Those two words you just said? I don’t like either of them. And for your information, in case this is some kind of a food intervention; I did a chuck full of vegetable things last night. Which reminds me…,” she said taking out her phone and sending a thank you to Joss Carter and a threat to John Reese.

“Vegetable… _things_?” Gen asked.

“Yeah and they weren’t all the same color; so…,” Shaw added and waved her hand to change the order.

“This is traditional Iranian food and it’s important that you try it because you’ll want to introduce it to Michael at some point. So, I thought you could try it with me first; so you get used to it,” Gen explained her reason.

“There is… _SO_ much about that run on sentence that I do not like and if Root were here, I’d report you,” Shaw huffed.

“How is Root doing?” Gen said, to take Shaw’s mind off food. It was the only thing that took her mind off food.  
“She’s good,” Shaw said, completely distracted. The waiter brought over some Iranian bread and Sameen grabbed it without even thinking. She ripped a piece of the warm tortilla like bread off and pushed it in her mouth … when she shared; “But there’s this chick down there. Mira Kent or something. What do behavioral specialists do, anyway?”

“Her name is Mara Kint and she’s a psychologist who specializes in behavior analysis,” the well informed Gen said.

“How do you know this?” Shaw asked.

“I was updating the Machine and saw the file on her. She’s a professor and consultant for the military in hostage negotiations. Well respected,” Gen said.

“Yeah, well she wants to meet with Root,” Shaw said and her tone clearly indicated she didn’t like it. “And… she touched her hands. I don’t think the military likes touchy people.”

“Was she just being friendly?” Gen tried. One look at her Godmother’s expression clearing told her that was the wrong question. “I’m sure Root will want you to meet her,” she changed it to.

The timing couldn’t have been better because the kababs were placed down in front of them at the very same time as Shaw wanted to rip into something. She knew she had nothing to be jealous about, but she was missing Root and someone else was with her. “I’ll give her…(bite, chomp)… twenty seconds to explain that stupid name.”

“It’s Dutch I think, although Mara sounds Irish,” Gen explained.

“Sondzstuped,” Shaw said and realized how that sounded. “I’m sorry,” she said of her rudeness when she put the kabab down and wiped her mouth. “I miss Root,” she offered as the only explanation.

“I know,” Gen said sympathetically because she didn’t know any two people who were as close as Root and Shaw. “She comes back tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Shaw answered and her mood lightened. “I’m going to pick her up.”

Gen smiled at the thought of the happy reunion. She was silent as her Godmother told her about her conversation with Michael and how they both shared what they missed most. The retelling of that was enough to make Gen melt. By the time the story was done; so was the kabab.

“That was pretty good,” Shaw finally admitted.

“I’m glad,” Gen said and insisted on paying the bill when it came.

“You’re _very_ stubborn,” Shaw noted affectionately.

“I get it from my Godmother,” Gen replied.

* * *

The mystery energy bars were just the thing the troop needed to galvanize their strength and finish the course in record time! And at the front of that group was Root. All she had to do was pretend that Sameen was waiting for her at the end of the course; and she flew past all her fellow recruits.

The group celebrated when everyone passed the test.

“First time in all my years that someone wasn’t eliminated,” the drill sergeant shared.

“We’re a very special group,” Root volunteered as the explanation.

* * *

Root was supposed to meet with the IT group, but was asked to report to the CO’s office instead. Expecting to see the man who had guided most of her meetings that week, she was surprised that it was Mara Kint who greeted her when she entered the room.

“Root, thank you so much for coming,” Mara said. “I had a couple of follow-up questions.”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to meet in New York,” Root said, taking a seat when Mara asked her to.

“This couldn’t wait, I’m sorry,” Mara explained. “Root, I’ve been doing a little research on you. After we spoke yesterday, I could just tell how much you missed your wife. Is that a fair statement?”

“More than fair; I mean, I think my entire platoon knows it,” Root smiled.

“Root, can I ask you a hypothetical question?” Mara asked, moving her chair into the table and taking her pen in her hand.

“Sure,” Root said.

“Suppose you and Sameen were separated; for a long time. And there was a way for you to reconnect in a semi-induced unconscious state,” Mara said slowly.

“You mean like in my dreams?” Root assessed correctly.

“Yes,” Mara smiled, aware of how astute her guest was.

“I dream about her all the time,” Root shared and her eyes drifted and smiled at the thought.

That gesture was exactly what the behavior specialist had noticed. Everyone missed their families, but it was only Root who seemed to enter a different dimension when she spoke of hers.

“Suppose you two were permanently separated,” Mara gingerly asked and when Root’s head spun around to glare at her, she once again touched Root’s hand. “Trust me, Root; I’m asking for a reason. Suppose the only way to connect with Shaw was in an induced state.”

Root stared hard at the woman, but gave thought to what she was proposing.

“That would be the only way to connect with Shaw?” she asked to be sure.

“Yes,” Mara confirmed.

“I’d never wake up,” Root said.

“Thank you, Root,” Mara said and sat back in the chair.

Root didn’t care that it was a weird question, nor did she share that she already figured out that Mara probably worked for a company that had invented a program that allowed people to escape into their dream states. Nor did she tell Mara that the first downside to such a program would be that people would not always want to come back and that it made sense that they would employ a behavior specialist who could save people from their own hostage situations.  
She could have said all of this, but that suggestion of being separated from Shaw made Root very agitated and she needed to hurry.

Root needed to connect with Shaw.


	110. Here Comes the Judge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know as much about baseball as I do about cows (they're not he's) ... but, I do know that the real Aaron Judge is an absolute sweet person. Root may not think so.

Root had to finish her afternoon meeting in a hurry because just the mere mention of being separated from Shaw made her run from the room. She smiled and saluted her way past higher officers as she returned to the barracks.

Shaw was thrilled to get the Facetime notice on her phone. But when Sameen appeared on the other side; Root fell through a doorway. Luckily, she found an empty closet.

“Are you okay?” Shaw asked, noticing the slight tumble her wife took.

“God, yes; I needed to see you,” Root said, her body suddenly soothed by the sight of her wife. “I miss you.”

“Maybe we should have practiced, Root,” Sameen shared. “You know, spent the night away or something before doing it for a whole week.”

“Someone was talking about us being apart and even though I knew it was hypothetical, it made the missing intensity, Shaw,” Root explained.

“ _Who_ would talk to you about that while you’re doing obstacle courses?” Shaw scoffed.

Root remembered the look on Sameen’s face when she mentioned Mara Kint and hesitated. “Remember that woman…?” is all she had to say.

“Mara Kint?” Shaw said, getting her name right this time. “What about her?” It was too late. Root had uttered the name and now Shaw’s entire face was closer to the phone. “Is she bothering you? What is this woman’s deal, Root?”

“No, it’s… she’s okay, Sweetie; honest,” Root said, trying to rein in her wife’s protective nature, while at the same time, turning to jelly inside over how fast Shaw reacted.

“I will snap her like a twig!” Shaw blasted and didn’t bother to add that the Machine had told her that. “Why is she bothering you?”

Root stared at the flaring nostrils and stern expression on the other side of the phone and touched it with her finger. “She’s not bothering me, Sweetie,” Root assured her wife. “Missing you makes me sensitive. She didn’t mean anything. She’s working ….,” she tried, but Shaw wasn’t having it.

“Is she going to be there tomorrow?” Shaw asked pointedly. “I’d like to meet her!”

“I think she’s leaving today, but she’ll come to New York and we can meet her,” Root tried to soothe her. “I just miss you.”

Shaw listened and decided it was time to pay attention to Root. Planning how to handle the woman who upset her, could wait until later. “I miss you, too. But I’ll be there tomorrow!” she reminded Root.

“They’re going to shooting off guns and canons tomorrow, so I’m not sure if you want to bring Michael,” Root said.

“My mother can stay here with her and we’ll come straight home,” Shaw decided.

“Are you going to a game tonight?” Root asked of her wife’s sports jersey.

“What? No, I have dinner at Zoe Morgan’s house,” she said and the more she said it, the whiner the words got.

“They mean well,” Root smiled.

“I know they do and it’s nice. But …,” Shaw said and truly had nothing else to say. “Do you know what owing Zoe Morgan is going to look like?”

“A thank you text?” Root answered quickly. She always was trying to calm Shaw’s ruffled feathers.

“Well…,” Shaw said, thinking about that very good point, “… yeah.”

“RECRUIT GROVES? SHOULD I SEND SOMEONE OUT TO FIND YOU?” shouted the drill sergeant because Root was MIA.

“I better go; I’ll text you later,” Root promised and kissed the screen before shoving the phone in her pocket and standing up to go outside.

“Hi!” Root said to the man who scowled when he saw her.

“Did you think I was going to wait for you to return before starting this afternoon’s exercises?” he shouted.

“Have you started them?” Root asked because it seemed like the logical question.

“No!” he said because he was waiting.

“Then, I guess so,” Root smiled and shrugged one shoulder.

“I would be putting in my retirement papers right now, Recruit, if you were staying here five weeks more,” he yelled and meant it.

“Tell your wife I said – you’re welcome,” Root teased back.

“GO! GO! GO!” he shouted at the woman who tried to joke with him.

* * *

While the couple was missing each other terribly, Janine was orchestrating Shaw’s last night alone.

“God, you’re tall!” she said when the six-foot seven man appeared at the door.

“Yes,” the young baseball player laughed. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“I don’t know,” Janine answered truthfully because she had to strain her neck to look at him. “Who are those for?” she asked of the flowers. He didn’t get to answer.

“Aaron!” Zoe Morgan said and tried to rescue the great athlete who was about to become a pawn in her lover’s attempt to keep Shaw happy. “I see you’ve met my girlfriend, Janine,” Zoe introduced them.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Aaron said, winking at the woman he admired.

“Let’s go in here and go over everything,” Janine smiled and waved for them to follow.

“I thought this was just dinner,” Aaron whispered to Zoe.

“For us, it’s dinner. For her; it’s a … bit more complicated,” Zoe smiled. “I’d try to explain it, but you have a game tomorrow night.”

Trusting the woman who more than once handled a situation for him, he followed her into the dining room.

“Okay, big guy; you sit here so Shaw can talk to you and not strain her neck,” Janine instructed.

The MVP outfielder looked at his hostess and saw the expression that told him he better play along. He sat down and opened his jacket.

“You don’t happen to have your uniform on you, do you?” Janine asked, thinking it would make quite the impression.

“No,” Aaron said apologetically. “I thought it was just dinner.”

Janine looked at him and then at Zoe. How could anyone think this was _just_ dinner? But then, she realized how it might appear that way to someone.  
“Oh, sure; just dinner,” she smiled.

“I hope you like steak,” Zoe said and offered him a beverage.

“Do we have enough?” Janine asked, because she hadn’t realized he was so tall.

Then, he was saved by the bell. “I’LL GET IT!” Janine said, rushing out of the room.

Before the team member could say that maybe this wasn’t a good idea; Zoe put her hand on his and said; “I really appreciate this. The next one? Is on me.” Considering how high the Fixer’s rates were, that was no small gesture.

“Deal!” the affable young man smiled.

* * *

As soon as Janine opened the door, she reached out and pulled Sameen in. Now, she thought Shaw was going to be dressed in her favorite Yankee jersey and that was what Sameen was wearing before Michael sneezed and covered her in smashed pea droplets.

“Wow!” Janine said when she finally noticed her boss in the tight fitting black dress and high heels. “That’s not a Yankee shirt.”

“No, I …,” Shaw was saying, but her assistant was not listening.

“We have a surprise!” she whispered so excited that Shaw pulled back from her.

“Because you know how much I _hate_ them?” Shaw asked, rolling her eyes.

“You’re going to like this one,” Janine said confidently.

“No, I’m not,” Shaw assured her, but was being dragged by the hand.

The New York Yankee guest was just asking who else was joining them; wondering if his friend, the Fixer, was taking on the job of setting him up on a blind date. When he heard the commotion, and turned to see Sameen Shaw at the end of Janine’s arm; he silently prayed he was right.

“Wow!” Aaron let out and rose to his feet. The roses that were still wrapped up that were intended for his hostess, suddenly were being presented to the last guest to arrive. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, even though they hadn’t been introduced. The tall man’s expression seemed to emulate the smile emoji with hearts for eyes.

“Oh, down, boy,” Zoe said and put her hand on his arm. But he was acting like it was the last inning and he was up at bat.

“Aaron Judge,” he smiled at Sameen, who had finally gotten her hand back.

“Right, and I’m _Judge Judy_ ,” Sameen smiled, but didn’t mean it.

“She’s hungry; you’ll have to forgive her,” Zoe whispered.

“Not a problem,” Aaron said as he stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, yeah, I'm Sameen…,” she was saying when Janine piped in with;

“ _Mrs_. _Sameen_ _Shaw_ - _Groves_.” And she made sure to say each of those words slowly.

The younger man repeated the name, but none of it registered.

“You know; married to Samantha Groves,” Janine said and now Zoe worried she’d have to protect him.

“Shaw, it’s good to see you,” Zoe said, breaking everyone’s stare. “I hope you like steak!” she said, to break the tension. She put an expensive glass of even more expensive scotch in Shaw’s hand. “One of us is going to have to rein her in,” she smiled.

“How’s Root?” Janine asked and the man trying to pass himself off as Aaron Judge ran to pull out Shaw’s chair.

“Thanks,” she said, frowning at what was going on. “She passed all her physicals today. I drive down to… get her,” she said, and noticed the man staring at her.

“Shaw, this really is…,” Zoe was saying when it finally clicked.

“You’re AARON JUDGE!” Shaw yelled; amazed that the man was sitting there. “How?” she asked, looking at Janine.

“Zoe,” the assistant answered and Shaw’s head spun, looking at each of them.

“It’s a pleasure,” the enamored man said.

“Boy, do I have some ideas for you!” said the diehard fan.

Zoe placed the platter of steak down in front of the two guests, along with potatoes and sides. Shaw grabbed a steak and started to cut it into large pieces and bite. “Now listen, you’re playing the Red Sox tomorrow and their catcher is really good,” Shaw said in one breath, as if the man didn’t know it.

For his part, the baseball player was so attentive, he hardly touched his food. He typically met women who were interested in dating him; but this woman only wanted to give him sound advice. He was falling head over heels for her.  
“So, that’s why you should try,” Shaw concluded, two hours later, when Zoe had placed apple pie down in front of her. What Sameen might have lacked in table manners was made up for in her knowledge of the game.

Zoe watched as Aaron’s eyes didn’t leave Shaw. Then, she watched as Janine’s eyes locked on him. “It’s okay,” she whispered to her lover. “He knows,” she assured her because the man was one of the most level headed people she’d ever met.

That was _before_ he met Shaw.

* * *

When Shaw looked at her watch and realized it was almost time for Root to call her, she jumped up and said she had to go. She was followed by the equally fast man, who offered to walk her home.

“Can I take a selfie?” he asked and Shaw stared up at him.

“Do you think you can get us in the same shot?” she teased, given the height difference.

He knelt down next to her and took it. “Thanks,” he said, staring down at the picture.

“Okay, thanks for dinner,” Shaw smiled again and Aaron rushed to open the door for her.

Sameen rolled her eyes, but walked outside; her new friend right alongside her.

“I was thinking of using new cleats,” he said, trying to get her to talk more about …. Well, anything.

“What, are you crazy?” Shaw barked because she took the bait. “You can’t do that,” she lectured as they walked and walked.

Just as Sameen got to her building, a destination Aaron had secretly wished was miles away yet, her phone beeped.

“Oh, look, it’s Root!” she said excitedly. “Look, honey,” Shaw said, as Root came into view; “It’s Aaron Judge!” Shaw said, pointing the phone to show the very tall man.

“Hello,” he smiled.

“Goodnight,” Shaw said to her favorite baseball player. It was a thrill to meet him, but her real life thrill was on the phone.

“Can I call you?” they both heard him blurt out. He recouped by adding; “You know, for baseball stuff.”

“Don’t you have coaches for that?” Shaw asked quizzically.

“They’re not as good as you,” the baseball player admitted.

“Okay,” Shaw said, because she would love to see her team win another World Series. “Hi, honey; I miss you so much,” she continued because she didn’t catch on to what was really going on. One look at her phone told her something was bothering Root. “What… is that face?” she asked.

Sameen might have missed the smitten tone in the man’s voice; but her wife hadn’t.

“Was he… trying to get to first base?” Root asked because she could tell he was being very friendly.

“Root, we’ve been over this,” Shaw said, getting into the elevator. “You want to get around all the bases, to home. That’s how you score,” she explained, thinking her wife forgot everything she taught her about baseball.

“Yes, that’s what I was afraid of,” Root concluded.


	111. The Hunger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Shaw's outfit described here courtesy of Sarah's photo shoot, She has excellent taste. Even HG would approve.

Shaw was not in tune at all to Root’s tone. She was too busy asking how things went that day. “Did you get… _anything_ … that helped?” she winked.

“Was that your idea? Did you get Gen to do that?” Root giggled.

“Well, the Kid and a few drones, but yeah,” Shaw said. The door opened to the penthouse and Shaw’s mom was standing there with the baby. “There she is!” she squealed upon seeing Michael. Michael got excited when she heard and saw her mothers.

“Hello, Sweetie,” Root said over the phone. Sameen was showing the phone to Michael, when she noticed a very odd look on her mother’s face.

“ _What_? What is _that_ look?” Sameen asked, but her mother shook her head. It was a very odd mixture of sternness and concern. “She’s got a look on her face,” she said, looking into the phone at Root. “Did your Love Child do something?” she laughed at her new nickname for the Machine.

“You finish up and I will bring Michael into you,” her mother said, waving at her daughter to talk to Root.

“She’s getting very bossy,” Sameen shared with Root. “THAT’S WHERE MICHAEL GETS IT FROM,” she shouted and now her mother cast another look and Michael yelled. “I’m in trouble and I didn’t do anything,” she complained to Root as she went into the living room.

“What time will you be here?” Root asked.

“When do you want me?” Shaw replied.

“Now,” Root smiled. “But we have to wait until ten tomorrow. I have a _big_ favor to ask.”

“Root, I have to wear clothes. If I show up on the base naked, they’ll arrest me,” Shaw said.

“Silly,” Root said, but her wife’s guess wasn’t too far off. “Would you let me send a car for you?”

“A car? I have a car,” Shaw pointed out, flopping down on the couch with her legs far apart.

“I know, but would you let me do this just for tomorrow?” Root pleaded.

“You want me to drive a _different_ car down to the base to get you?” Shaw asked, her face scrunched up because this didn’t make sense.

“No, I want you to let me have someone drive you down,” Root explained.

Shaw had to think about that. “You mean like Fusco?”

Root let out a soft laugh. “You know, it’s finally dawning on me that Lionel really does have a full time job. I was thinking more… Reese.”

“You want… Reese… to drive me?” Shaw asked, wondering if that was a good idea. Then, she remembered how he didn’t prepare her for the meal his girlfriend cooked. “Okay, I have some unfinished business with Lurch.”

“Thanks,” Root smiled, because her purpose had nothing to do with Shaw exacting her payback and everything to do with the fact that Reese was the most discrete person she knew.

“I may not sleep tonight,” Root confessed.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Shaw added, her finger outlining Root’s face on the phone.

“Send me a picture,” Root whispered, because any minute now, the sergeant would be in to check on them.

“Like, of my face?” Shaw asked quizzically.

“Or of you… before you go to bed,” Root said and gave that entire body movement that was meant to be a wink.

Shaw laughed and shook her head. “You're freaking adorable, you nerd.”

“Is that a yes?” Root wanted to clarify.

“Sure,” Sameen promised and Root heard someone yelling and said she had to go.

“I love you,” Root said before clicking the off button.

“Me, too,” Shaw said, even though she knew Root didn’t hear her. She let out a long sigh and smiled. She never felt like this in her life. The missing was palpable and she ached for Root. She was lost in those feelings when she looked up and saw her mother standing there, looking down at her.

“WHAT is UP with you?” Shaw said, pulling herself up on the couch. She didn’t want to admit it, but Azar had a wicked intimidating look about her. “Are you like going through menopause or something?”

“What is this?” Azar said and showed Sameen her phone. On it was the picture of her and the enamored baseball player in front of the penthouse.

“How? Where did you get that?” Shaw asked, truly surprised.

“Where I got it is not important,” Azar said, deflecting the question. “What is important is that this photo will be out on social media any second. And you will need to address it.”

“I am not addressing that! He’s … he’s Aaron Judge. I had dinner at Zoe’s and he was there. There’s nothing… are you suggesting?” Sameen said, getting her anger up.

“Of course not!” Azar said, her tone softened. “But you and Root do your best not to be in the spotlight. Being with someone as famous as he is naturally draws attention,” she said, sitting next to her daughter and touching her leg.

“I don’t care,” Sameen said.

“Will Root care? I mean, ordinarily she is very secure with you. But she’s missing you terribly. How would you feel if someone were occupying Root’s time; even for only an evening?”

“I wouldn’t … I mean, I don’t care…. I trust Root, so there’s…,” Shaw tried, but each time the thought of that woman who was occupying Root’s time came into view. “Shit!”

“It’s nothing bad, my azizam,” her mother counseled her. “… but you want to get out in front of this.”

“How… do I do that?” Sameen asked.

Then, as every parent in the world would do, Azar took advantage of the fact that she was actually being asked and gave her daughter advice.

“Send Root the picture she requested,” Azar started and Sameen was trying to ask if she was eavesdropping, but her mother put her finger up not to be interrupted, “… go to her tomorrow; I will watch Michael. Then, on the way back, remind Root that you had dinner with this man and that the media has picked up on it. I have it on good authority, Sameen that your brief encounter with him, though unintentional on both your parts, is going to cause a problem for him.”

“Is there a _short_ version to that long sentence?” Shaw asked because she didn’t get everything she said.

Azar laughed at her daughter’s bluntness. “Go to Root, but tell her about this dinner. She will handle it. Probably better than you will,” her mother summed up.

She leaned over and kissed her daughter’s head and said goodnight. Isabelle walked in with Michael all ready for bed.

* * *

Both women left together as Sameen took her daughter upstairs. “You know Grandma is bossy, right? And very cryptic. Like she knows things, but doesn’t tell you how she does,” Sameen complained about her mother.

Michael found explaining things to adults very tiring, but she gave it one more try. She pointed to Root’s office as they passed. “Mommy’s not in there,” Sameen answered, but Michael yelled and squirmed. Sameen thought she wanted her to show her, so she opened the door. “See?” she said, but Michael pointed straight ahead… right at the computer screen.

Sameen finally got it. “The _Machine_ told her about the picture?” she asked as if the baby could understand.

But... Michael did let out a yell of confirmation. And then, she was too tired to answer any more questions and wanted to go to bed.

Shaw didn’t get any more answers, but she did finally do as Root had requested.

The text simply read; ‘I can’t _bare_ to be without you any longer.’ And there were no misspellings.

* * *

Root was up before the blare of the horn that awoke the recruits. Her drill sergeant blasted his voice through a megaphone with a siren. People jumped out of bed; many falling because they awoke to this terrible sound. But Root was up and sitting on her bed and waved to the man who had hoped to catch everyone off guard. The room erupted with moans as people tried to stand at attention. The sound of his voice through the horn reverberated around the sleepy recruits as he shouted orders about what their morning would be like.

“ _Some_ of you are leaving this morning and I’m sure we want to have a proper send off,” he said sarcastically because his job was to make them all uncomfortable. But, he just couldn’t seem to get under Root’s skin.

“That’s not necessary,” she whispered as he looked down into her face. No matter how much he threatened or yelled, she always smiled back at him.

“There’s no time for breakfast either, ladies,” he announced and someone groaned at the end of the line.

“Did you just…,” he was going to chastise the forgetful woman, but Root distracted him… again; proving how much she learned about comradery.

“They do say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” she reminded him.

His head snapped around to look at her, and forgetting the other recruit. “Recruit Groves, if you were not leaving today, I would personally drive you back to that concrete jungle you live in.”

“That’s very sweet, but someone’s coming…,” Root misunderstood.

“MARCH!” he yelled because he didn’t know what else to do.

* * *

Reese would do anything Root asked him to do, but the man had his limits. When Shaw appeared the next morning, she was surprised that he drove up in a stretch limo.

“What the hell, Reese?” she barked. “You moonlighting as an undertaker?” she laughed.

He smiled his noncommittal smile just as Fusco appeared. “What are you doing here?” she asked when he opened the back door and slowly placed the bag he had with him on the back seat.

“I’m not sitting back there,” she balked.

“I got those jelly donuts you like,” Fusco said. “And that’s a good outfit you’re wearing for them.”  Not one to notice clothes, it was hard for even the good detective not to notice his friend decked out in a two piece tartan design pants outfit. The sleeveless top showed all her of her tattoos off; not to mention her excellent physique. “I don’t know how you walk in those things,” Fusco said of the high heels.

“Why? You looking to try them?” Shaw teased him.

“Inside with you,” Fusco said, gently leading her into the back seat. He closed the door behind her.

If Sameen didn’t think that Reese had orchestrated how this was going to go down; she was in for a rude awakening. She lowered the tinted window to inform her friend, Fusco, that she had a beef to settle with him. “Mostlycauseitwazentbeef,” she laughed at her own joke, her mouth full of the delicious jelly donut.

“Worked like a charm,” Fusco said to his friend who asked for his help in getting Shaw into the back seat. He got the idea watching nature shows where the caretaker places food in a cage to transport the animal.

“Youcuddatoldmeh,Reeze,” she said, still chewing.

“Drink,” Fusco said, worried his friend would choke. He pushed a bottle of water through the window to her.

Then, they all heard a man’s voice call out; “Hey, Sameen.” John and Lionel looked over to see Aaron passing by. “I was just passing by and saw you getting into your car,” he gushed as he bent down and looked in the limo.

“You’re …. You’re….,” Fusco stuttered as John stared over.

“Don’t you have a game this afternoon?” Sameen asked.

“Yeah,” the man smiled and Fusco kept repeating the same phrase.

“Well, don’t you need to get ready or something?” Shaw asked, completely unaware.

“Would you and your family like to come to the game?” the polite player asked.

“YES!!” Fusco shouted and Reese nodded his head.

“You can take these guys; I have to go get Root,” Shaw explained.

“Well, maybe another time?” Aaron asked.

“Sure; but I have to go now,” Sameen smiled and slowly put the window up. “Let’s go, Reese.”

The man stood back and smiled down at Lionel. “Six tickets?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lionel said, stunned.

“Give me your name and they’ll be at the box office,” the Yankee said.

“Detective. My name is …,” Lionel stammered.

“FUSCO!” Shaw yelled out and rolled her eyes. “Fanboying over a baseball player!”

Reese got in the car and kept his excitement at bay, but did shoot a text off to Joss that they had tickets to the Yankee game that afternoon.

Shaw was all set to give Reese a piece of her mind when he put his plan into action.

“You know, Reese; you could have given me a heads up about that meal. I mean, it was good and all, but there were more vegetables in there than at a supermarket…,” she started and the dark glass window that divided them, suddenly started to go up. “Don’t you put that up,” Shaw said, and looked for the button to make it go down, but it had been disabled.

John smiled as the doors locked, the divider stayed in place, and not a sound could be heard.

* * *

Two hours later, they arrived at their destination.

The recruits were lined up outside when the black stretch limo pulled up.

“Oh, thank God!” the Drill Sergeant uttered.

Then, Root and the entire platoon watched as the back door opened and out stepped Sameen in her two piece tartan outfit. The high heel shoes gave her a swagger as she approached and Root’s fellow recruits caught her as she toppled back, losing her balance.

Proving the man did have a heart, he agreed when Root asked; “Permission to rush at my wife, Sir?”

The recruits oo’d and aww’d in unison as Root took off towards Sameen.

“SAMEEN!” Root yelled as she raced at her.

Equally agile in her heels, Shaw rushed at Root. “OH MY GOD!” Root said, grabbing her wife around the waist and lifting her up in the air.

“Wow, they really did make you strong!” Sameen laughed at her wife’s strength. But Root found Shaw’s mouth and started to kiss her.

Root had missed her touch, her skin, the feel of her lips. She cupped Sameen’s derriere in front of the entire group because her hands needed to feel them. For her part, Shaw was too busy pulling Root’s face in so she could kiss those lips she missed. “God I have missed you so much,” she said between kisses.

“Never again,” Root said because her heart was bursting with the missing she tried to suppress all week. “I can’t take it being apart.”

“Me, either, Root. I missed you. Every part of you; your hands on me; your lips on me,” Shaw confessed.

“Shaw!” Root said and slowly started to take her military jacket off.

“Root; not here, please; Root, you have to wait,” Shaw begged because she feared her wife was getting undressed.

“Look!” she said, shoving her left arm out to display it.

Sameen looked down at her wife’s very pale arm. “Root, is that…,” Shaw said and actually put her finger in her mouth to wet it and then tried to rub the blue line.

Root laughed; “It’s a real tattoo, Silly.”

“How? Why? What … ?” Shaw asked, holding onto Root’s arms. “Did they make you…?” Sameen couldn’t imagine her wife tolerating the inherent pain of getting inked.

“It was my idea! They helped,” she whispered and looked back at her fellow recruits – giving them her body wink.

“Did it hurt?” Shaw asked even though she knew the answer.

“Yes!” Root affirmed. “But I wanted one to go with yours,” she gushed. She watched as Sameen stared down and at first, thought she couldn’t make it out – even though it was clear what it was.

Sameen swallowed hard and looked away for a second, choking back the tears.

“It goes with your arrow,” Root said.

“It’s.. beautiful,” Shaw finally said of the tattooed blue bow on the inside of her wife’s arm.

“We’re parts that go together, Shaw. I mean, I always knew that, from the minute I saw you, I knew you completed me, but without you - to give me purpose; I’m like an unused bow,” Root explained her choice.

“It’s perfect, Root, because you… give me direction,” Shaw said, unaware of just how poetic that was.

Root grabbed Sameen again into a tight embrace and the sweetest of kisses that were both hard and tender at the same time. “We have to go,” she said and turned to salute her fellow marines.

* * *

Seconds later, they were in the back of the limo with the darkened glass.

“Then, he locked me in and wouldn’t put that window down,” Shaw tattle told on Reese.

“Don’t you know why I wanted you to come down in this car?” Root asked as Reese slowly drove away.

“The booze bar?” Shaw asked, finally noticing her surroundings.

“Sameen….,” Root looked coyly at her wife as she ripped off her USMC t-shirt. “Think again.”

“Root, we need to put on seat belts,” Sameen pointed out.

“We’re going to run out of gas; John is going to get some more and we’re going to be stuck back here for at least a half hour,” Root said, as if she had orchestrated the entire thing. Which she did.

“God, I love when your imagination takes over,” Shaw admitted and pulled the green camouflage pants off her wife.

“I need you on my skin, Shaw,” Root begged and her wife was more than happy to comply.

Twenty minutes later, a pick-up truck noticed the stretch limo stranded on a dry patch of land right off the highway. The driver was standing several hundred yards away in the shade.

“You need service, buddy?” the truck driver yelled over.

“No, I’m good,” Reese waved back.

“Your limo is moving and shaking over there. Are you sure?” he said, staring at the car.

“No, it’s supposed to do that,” John smiled back, and then returned to his paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for suffering with us through this separation.


	112. What a Performance

There was a frenzy going on in the back of that limo.

Once Root felt Shaw’s skin, she couldn’t get enough of it. The car was still running, but the amount of gasps inside was using up all the oxygen. Root opened the sun roof and Shaw – donning Root’s t- shirt, stuck her head through it to breathe. This new position only lent itself to more touching and Root took full advantage of it. Shaw didn’t realize just how agile Root could be when it came to different settings. Shaw’s hands slammed on the roof of the vehicle as waves of tingling explosions rippled through her body. Root held her in place until it subsided.

Reese never even looked over; in spite of the high pitched cry.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Shaw demanded as she straddled Root’s lap back inside.

“Really? Because you looked like you enjoyed that…,” Root noted of the sunroof climax.

“Not _that_!” Shaw corrected her wife. “Don’t ever leave again. No more military excursions, Root.”

“Oh” Root smiled. “I won’t. I learned a lot though.”

“What did you learn?” Shaw asked as Root played with the stands of hair that framed her face.

“I learned how I can’t breathe without you; how it feels as if a part of me is missing. How it hurts in here when you’re not next to me at night,” Root said and pointed to hear heart.

“What about here?” Shaw coyly asked and ran her hands up Root’s smooth thighs.

“Yessss,” Root gasped when her wife touched her. “Oh, God yes, there.”

John was walking over when the sounds emanating through the top of the sunroof caused him to turn around, go back and reread his paper. Discreet was John’s middle name.

* * *

A little while later, as both women collapsed in the back seat, Sameen was showing Root all the pictures she took of Michael.

“I feel like I missed so much,” Root said. “Is she bigger?”

“Not that much,” Shaw assured her.

“Look,” Root said again of the tattoo on her arm. “We go together,” she said, putting her bow against Shaw’s arrow. It was that sensation of skin on skin that Root missed so much.

“Yes, yes, we do,” Shaw laughed and pulled her into a kiss.

As if on cue, John sauntered back to the car and got in the driver’s seat and started the drive home. Again.

* * *

“Your mother has been a big help this week,” Root commented.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, as they tried to get dressed in the back seat with the car moving.

“And you had quite the epicurean adventure, I hear,” Root prompted her wife.

“What?” Shaw asked because food was …. Food.

“Eating with our friends?” Root said and never made Shaw feel awkward that she didn’t get it the first time.

“Oh, yeah,” Shaw said, struggling to get her top back on. Root just stopped and stared at this gorgeous body near her. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch Shaw’s skin – to run her hand along the length of her arm when she finally got her top back on. “I get Joss making home cooked meals, but the Kid taking me for some Iranian dish...,” Sameen relayed.

“Really?” Root said because she thought that was wonderful.

“Yeah, it wasn’t bad, but don’t tell her or she’ll only be encouraged,” Shaw noted.

“I bet Janine made sure you had steak,” Root said, leading Sameen where she wanted her to go.

“Well, the woman knows me,” Shaw said and then something clicked. “Oh, yeah, listen; remember Aaron was there at dinner?”

“Yes; yes, I do. Was trying to get to first base, if I remember,” Root said, looking serious.

“No, he was at Zoe’s dinner. Anyway, he walked home with me as you know, and someone took a picture and it’s floating out there,” Shaw said very matter of factly.

“Of the two of you?” Root asked.

“Yeah and my mother was all – ‘you gotta tell Root,’ “ Shaw said, imitating her mother’s voice – deep and accented.

“Did she think I’d be jealous?” Root quizzed.

“No, she just didn’t want you to be surprised,” Shaw said.

“I can do jealous,” Root said, pulling at Shaw’s hair now.

“No, you don’t have to be jealous,” Shaw said, and Root was about to agree when Sameen mentioned how the athlete stopped by the car this morning and Fusco and John were starry-eyed. “You had to see Fusco’s face,” she laughed without realizing she was laughing alone. “He couldn’t remember his name,” she added and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ahh,” she said, and wiped an errant tear from her eye.

Then, she noticed.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“He just _happened_ to be passing by?” Root asked, aware that an unsettled feeling was rising in her chest.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, because it didn’t seem unusual to her.

“He walked you home last night and this morning, he was there again?” Root said, connecting the dots.

“Did you buy the block and not tell me?” Sameen smiled. It was so rare for her wife to be jealous, that she simply wasn’t catching on. “Anyway, he invited us to a game, but I told him to invite Reese and …”

“He was passing by and invited you to a game?” Root asked.

“Us; he invited us,” Shaw corrected her.

“I’d like to meet him,” Root said, clearing her throat and deciding to act on her feelings.

“You would?” Shaw asked. “Why?” and she meant – you probably couldn’t pick him out of a lineup, why would you want to meet him?

Root had spent the week without Sameen by her side; without touching her and seeing her. The whole experience put her on edge, and while she knew no one could lay claim to her wife, she was sensitive to the absence.

“Because…,” Root said, turning to look into Sameen’s eyes; “… I want to make sure we _understand_ each other.”

“Root, even if Aaron knows about computers and things; I don’t think you’re going to understand all the baseball jargon he would use. I mean, do you know what RBI even stands for? Do you know how many homeruns he’s had this season?” Shaw quizzed her.

“One less than he’d like to,” Root answered.

“Huh? Oh, wait,” Shaw finally said, putting it all together. “What about your friend? The one with the weird name who kept touching you all week?’

“Mara?” Root asked because that statement was an exaggeration.

“Yeah, that chick. When is she coming to town? Put your hand on my wife’s hand? I don’t think so,” Shaw said, her head bobbing from side to side.

Root looked over at Sameen. Somehow, her being jealous was a turn on; where her own jealousy simply felt tense. “I love it when you’re all hot and bothered,” Root confessed.

Sameen looked back and would have argued she wasn’t jealous; she was just incredibly territorial, but like Root, she had this urge to lay claim to what no one else could have.

At first, they tried to stay in their seat belts while pulling at clothes and kissing madly, but it didn’t work. The sudden sound of loud muffled thumping and moaning caught Reese’s attention. He exited the highway; putting the window down to pay the toll.

The ruckus did not go unnoticed by the toll taker who looked at the rear of the car suspicious. “Whaddaya got back there? He asked.

John smiled; “I’d tell you, but then, I’d have to kill you.”

The man laughed at the response and only when John pulled away, did he question if it was a joke.

John pulled over and repeated his actions from the previous stop. He got out, went to a shady spot and called Joss.

“Are you hitting a lot of traffic? It’s taking you a long time to get back,” the detective noticed.

In his usual short answer style, John responded: “Something like that,” John said.

“I hope you don’t run out of gas,” Joss worried.

“Oh, I don’t think that is going to happen any time soon,” he commented.

* * *

The couple finally arrived home, safe and sound. Root rushed upstairs to see her daughter. When the doors opened up, there was Michael, in her grandmother’s arms. Her face lit up when she saw Root who ran to her.

“Oh, I missed you, I missed you,” Root said over and over as she kissed the baby’s cheeks.

For her part, Michael squealed with delight and put her opened mouth on Root’s cheeks. Tears swelled in her eyes and flowed down her face.

“God, that is sweet,” Shaw said to her mother.

“Yes, it is,” Azar whispered back and wiped away her own tear. “I remember you at that age.”

Shaw turned to look at her mother. She sometimes forgot that she shared a long history with the woman. For so long, she only felt her absence; but now that the woman was back in her life; she could remember the times they had shared.

“Thanks, mom,” Sameen said, turning to face her mother.

“Oh, I love babysitting her,” she said, thinking her daughter was thanking her for helping out.

“Not just that, Mom,” Shaw said and swallowed hard. “For everything; for coming back and for not giving up on me when I said I didn’t want you here. For letting me just be angry that you left, even though I understand better now what happened. For seeing all the things that I couldn’t see yet.”

Root heard just enough of that conversation to turn and look at Sameen.

“That’s what mothers do, azizam,” Azar replied. “Thank you,” she said, grabbing Sameen’s face and kissing her cheek.

Michael took note of her mother’s tattoo and touched it.

“See? That’s a bow; to go with Mommy’s arrow,” she pointed out.

Michael yelled at Sameen to come. She pulled at Sameen’s arm.

“It’s a little freaky how she seems to get things; have you noticed that?” Sameen asked Root.

The baby was too busy looking at the two tattoos near each other. Her face broke out in a smile when she saw them. The imagery of the symbols was very fitting of the two who complimented each other so well.

* * *

A little while later, Isabelle appeared and greeted Root. She had made a big lunch for everyone. “Oh, I’m starving,” Shaw admitted as they went into the kitchen.

“Of course, you worked up quite an appetite,” Root teased her.

Azar and Isabelle asked Root questions about her week deployment, while Sameen turned on the television in the kitchen to the Yankee baseball game.

Being the devoted fan that she was; Sameen became very animated and shouted at the umpire when he made a call she didn’t agree with. She listened as the announcer noted that number 99 had been having a bad day. “He’s struck out both times at bat,” he noted.

“Come on, Judge!” Shaw shouted at the tv when the player got up and struck out two more times. It was very unusual for the star athlete to not at least get a man on base. Sameen jumped up and duplicated the way she wanted Aaron to hold the bat. She had watched these games all her life and knew how each player performed.

“Strike three!” the umpire yelled and the man’s shoulders fell as he walked back to the dugout.

“What is up with him?” Shaw shouted, disappointed in the player.

She had no idea that, like it or not, his infatuation with her was the start of his performance issue.

Somehow, the woman who understood _nothing_ about the sport was putting it all together.  

And she didn't like it. 


	113. Special Delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know nothing about this process - so I made it up. Forgive me, canine lovers.

The weekend brought a quiet peace to the house where Shaw and Root spent all their time together with Michael. Root swore she could see all the changes in the baby that one short week brought. She was more verbal; she was more agile; and she was certainly more opinionated. Her short yells always brought a response from one or both mothers; and she thought that was just delightful. But if Michael was getting a little bossy; she was about to have some competition.

Bear was home.

Daan had done his best to keep the expectant mother and nervous father canines happy, but Bear needed to get back to the penthouse. He knew almost immediately when Root was home and Daan had to beg him to wait until the next afternoon. The Belgium Malinois needed Root to know what was going on. He needed her support. He burst through the door and made a mad dash for his original pet. It didn’t take a dog whisperer to know something was up with the canine; he was whining and barking up a storm.

He had a lot to tell Root.

“I missed you, too,” Root said, allowing him to kiss her full face. “Yes, it was a long time. Who’s a good boy?”

“Oh, brother,” Shaw said and noticed that Shadow was sluggish and went into the kitchen.

“Tell her already,” Daan yelled, but Shadow was pulling him with her into the other room.

“Tell me what?” Root asked and the dog nudged her until she sat on the couch. He barked at Shaw. If he was going to tell on her; she should at least be there. For the next minute or two, he explained how he tried to tell Shaw, but she ignored him. Both he and Root turned slowly to look at the disinterested party. She was watching the Yankees lose another game.

“What?” Shaw said, when she realized they were staring at her. “What did he say?” she knew to question.

“He said you _ignored_ him,” Root said and her voice was the slightest bit stern.

“What? He said that? Say it to my face, fur ball!” she yelled.

So, he did.

“I was a _little_ busy, you know!” she said defensively because she did remember putting him off.

“He needs our help,” Root said, trying to calm at least one of them.

“You give new meaning to the word - _tattletale_ ; emphasis on the last syllable,” said the woman always up for a fight. Bear was not backing down and he went into a tirade about Shaw. “Did you just call me…what did he call me?” she asked, ready to wrestle the dog.

“If we could just get to … didn’t you want to tell us something?” Root reminded the high strung father to be.

How he wished he could lift his paws to his eyes the way Shaw could do it to him. He turned to Root and started to explain that something was up with Shadow.

“Is she sick?” Root asked, about to get up and go after her. She figured Daan would have told them.

“Did he just say he _googled_ …?” Shaw asked.

A loud bark told her to wait for the Q&A period.

“No, he… went to… the Machine,” Root explained, both impressed and worried that these two could communicate. “She must speak canine,” she proffered.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said, thinking this was not a good combination.

Sameen went back to watching the game and groaned out loud, falling back on the couch when Aaron struck out. Again.

Bear was yapping and barking away; explaining to Root that Shadow was about to have….

“These fans are going to have….,” Shaw was saying when Root finally got it and yelled out… “PUPPIES?” Shaw looked at her. “That’s a polite term for it, I guess.”

“No, Shaw, Bear is telling me…,” Root was saying when Daan called them loudly.

“It’s happening!” he said and waved for them to come.

“Lunch?” Shaw said, because that was the only reason someone should summon them to the kitchen with that much enthusiasm.

“I don’t think so,” Root said, catching on. “Are we ready?”

“I am,” Shaw said, disgusted by the loss of another game.

“Sweetie?” Root said, but Shaw was ahead of her, heading into the kitchen.

“We didn’t know where else to set it up,” Daan said of the bed in the large closet off the kitchen; where the canine mother was in labor.

“This is fine,” Root said.

“What? Is she okay?” Shaw said and looked down at the panting dog. “What’s wrong?” She rushed to the dog’s side and stroked her head. “Is this from spending so much time with him?” she asked, implying Bear was annoying.

“Yes, in a way,” Root said and got some towels.

“She’s almost ready,” Daan said, having been prepped for this moment.

“What is…?” Shaw was asking when the moment arrived.

The puppies started to appear and Bear groaned; pushing his head onto Shaw’s let. “It’s okay; she’s…Root?”

“She’s having puppies,” Root all but giggled.

“How did that happen?” Shaw asked and Bear wondered how they had a baby.

“Uhm, they got together?” Daan offered.

“Who?” Shaw asked, truly unaware because she rarely thought of Bear as canine. Bear was moaning because there were so many of them. “It’s okay,” Shaw assured him.

“Bear is the father,” Root said and the puppies kept coming.

“What?” Shaw asked and looked down at him. “No he’s not! You?”

“We can talk about this later, Sweetie; right now we need to let Shadow do what she needs…,” Root said and Daan took over.

“Oh my God; there’s like six of them,” Shaw counted quickly as she got up.

* * *

Bear was walking like he was drunk and leaned on Shaw. “What were you thinking?” she asked, and quickly added; “Never mind.”

“How did we not know about this?” Shaw asked.

“He tried to tell us,” Root reminded her.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Shaw apologized and bent down to him. She grabbed him around his neck and hugged him.

Bear was much relieved and had to go lay down. The whole ordeal was exhausting for him.

* * *

Everyone was about to sit down when Daan rushed into the hallway and told them: “We have a problem!”

Root and Shaw returned quickly to the little room. “She’s not moving,” he said of the tiniest pup.

“Call the vet,” Root said and Daan rushed to do so.

“What does that mean?” Sameen asked.

“She’s not…,” Root was saying, but Shaw was taking things into her own hands.

Bear was moaning; Shadow was yelping because she knew her littlest one was in distress.

Shaw grabbed a towel and Root picked her up and put her in it. They wrapped her up, but it didn’t work. “Here,” Shaw said and they put her in Shaw’s lap. She opened the towel; and began massaging the puppy’s little chest. “Keep doing that,” she told Root who took over the gentle pressure. Then, Shaw bent over and pressed her lips onto the dog’s; holding her mouth so the breath would work its way into her lungs.

The parents were frantic by now. Each time Shaw lifted her mouth and looked – there was nothing. Bear started to pace; Shadow lay there and let out cries.

“You are stubborn just like your father,” Shaw said and resumed the mouth-to-mouth.

And then, the littlest offspring – sprung to life.

The room erupted into cheers and barking as the puppy resumed breathing.

“You are going to be _trouble_ , I just know it,” Shaw said of the tiny thing.

“I think we have our first name,” Root smiled at her wife who saved the day.

Root took the puppy back to Shadow so she could see she was okay. Bear was all over Shaw; thanking her and promising never to call her names behind her back again.

“You call… me… names?” Shaw asked, stunned.

‘ _A little_ ,’ Bear admitted sheepishly.

* * *

By that night, the mother was recovering; babies were nursing; father was drained, Michael was amazed at all the little moving things; and Shaw and Root were sitting next to one another on the couch.

“It’s going to get very noisy around here,” Root noted.

“We get to name them!” Shaw said and Bear growled. “Fine; but wait until you get my bill.”

Isabelle had rushed over when she heard the news to make a special meal. For Shaw.

“You saved the day!” she said of her favorite person to cook for.

“I did, didn’t I?” Shaw said, biting into the succulent steak. “I’m glad my medical degree came in handy.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Root asked, and leaned in to kiss her wife.

* * *

Several miles away, in the borough above Manhattan called “The Bronx’; the manager of the premier baseball team spoke to someone on the phone.

“I’m recommending he come in to see you right away,” he said to the consultant. “Something is bothering him and we have to get to the bottom of it!”

The young athlete sat with the trainer in front of the desk. Even he had to agree that something was wrong. A battery of tests proved there was nothing physically wrong with him. So, his support team was taking the next step.

“Thanks, Doc. We’ll have him there,” the manager said and hung up.

“Good news, Aaron. Doctor Campbell can see you first thing, Monday morning.”


	114. Crossing Paths

The peace of the Shaw-Groves home was broken by the whimpering and commotion of having several new family members that weekend. The vet arrived and pronounced mother and pups all fit. She was very impressed with how the couple managed to save the littlest one. Bear was very attentive to them; his way of thanking his favorite pets for saving his offspring.

When everyone was sleeping, Root and Shaw snuck to the couch to resume their cuddling; unable to get enough of each other after the week apart.

“We could name them after the dwarfs,” Shaw whispered because she didn’t want to get an earful from the new father.

“You named _one_ already,” Root reminded her.

Then, it dawned on Sameen that they were outnumbered by the four legged animals. “Are we keeping them?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I think we need to find good homes,” Root suggested.

“I’m _not_ telling him,” Shaw whispered back.

“We’ll tell him together,” Root promised.

“Right, like that’s going to go over well,” Shaw worried. “ _You get to keep yours, but I have to give mine away_?” she said in a different voice.

* * *

Iris had just gotten off the phone and agreed to meet the angst-ridden athlete Monday morning. Long before Sameen Shaw graced her office; Root had agreed to allow Iris to keep her contract as a consultant for the New York team. It was rare that she was ever called and it never interfered with her day job. In fact, that had been the first call she’d received in quite some time. Not one to ever disclose who her clients were, even Fusco was unaware of the impending visit.

Now, all that had to happen was for Aaron to get to Iris before anyone got to him.

As Root’s luck would have it; the Yankee’s poor performance was the subject of great speculation in the media. As Shaw’s luck would have it; she was as clueless as the newscasters were about what could be the issue. Baseball is a sport of great superstition, and so it didn’t take look before people were wondering what happened to the great athlete between his winning streak and a weekend of the worst performances of his career. Even at post-game press conferences, Aaron could not explain his sudden dip. Finally, a rather ingenious reporter, who had seen the picture of him outside Shaw’s apartment, asked if it had anything to do with her. A light went off in everyone’s head; and his protest that they were just friends, only fueled the fire.

In spite of having the perfect program at her disposal to provide the explanation; Root already knew what the man’s issue was. She naturally deduced that one dinner with her wife was enough to throw him off. She also knew her lover was totally unaware because she spent the weekend complaining about how the Yankees would not make the World Series if this kept up.

* * *

Monday came too soon and neither of them wanted to leave their bed. Root had several deadlines to meet that day; and one meeting.

“That consultant is coming in today; this afternoon,” she said as she lathered Shaw’s hair in the shower.

“What consultant?” Shaw asked, because there was a lot about last week she wanted to forget.

“Mara Kint; the behavior…,” Root said.

“Oh, yeah,” Sameen said, her whole body moving now as she seemed to flex her muscles. “I want to meet _that_ chick.”

“I’ll make sure _that_ chick knows that,” Root said, spraying the water on Shaw’s head to rinse out the suds. “Are you… jealous?” she asked, her hand sliding over Sameen’s wet skin; her other hand deftly aiming the pulsating water.

“Noooooo,” Shaw said, taken aback by how quickly that water stream worked on her body.

“No?” Root asked again, pulling her back onto her own body as the water massaged her sensually.

“Yes,” Shaw confessed so the questions would stop and the spraying would continue. “Oh, God, yesssss!”

Shaw recovered quickly and – probably because the thought of Mara being in Root’s office came back to her, she turned and pushed Root up against the cool tile. What her vocabulary lacked, her motions made up for in claiming Root as her own. The love bite was deliberate as she marked Root’s neck.

Root could tell what her wife was doing; there was nothing gentle about her moves, although she didn’t mind. _Vigorous Shaw_ was a complete turn-on. And in spite of the slippery conditions under which she pulled and pushed at Root; they never fell.

It was a good way to start the day.

* * *

Root was concerned about this situation in the press, but that outcome would be small compared to what waited Sameen in her office. The newspapers were running with the story of the married woman who was causing the young athlete to lose his focus.

Janine was running with her own version and if she could have gotten close to the man, she would have settled it immediately.

“I can’t even get him on the phone,” Zoe explained when Janine said she wanted the man ‘front and center’. “I don’t think anyone could have predicted what would happen,” she tried to assure her lover, who felt responsible.

“If I could just _get_ to him,” Janine said and might have said talk to him instead.

“ _Get_ … to him?” Zoe pointed out.

“Make him understand,” Janine said, but she was sounded more mobster like than arbitrator like.

“You mean, _make him an offer he can’t refuse?_ ” laughed her lover.

“Yes,” Janine confirmed and Zoe decided right then and there, the star athlete should never meet her girlfriend alone.

“What is it that you want…?” she was asking when Janine had her answer ready.

“He’s got to understand that there is zero chance,” the assistant explained.

“I think Aaron understands…,” Zoe attempted to calm her down.

“And he’s got to stop upsetting her by playing poorly. He has to get his game back up,” Janine demanded, striking her rolled up fist on the counter top.

“I think you mean he needs to get his game back… _on_ ,” Zoe gently corrected her and took her hand in hers to unfurl it.

“That, too,” the protective assistant barked.

“I’ll do my best to reach him today,” Zoe promised and kissed Janine’s lip, hoping to soften the expression on her face. For a second, she stopped and was going to point out that he had only a glimmer of infatuation that Janine had for Shaw; but she thought better of it.

* * *

Iris had made arrangements for the celebrity baseball player to come to her office via a back entrance to the building. They had to be discrete; the press would be all over this.

Mara Kint was going over some notes at the hotel where she stayed overnight for her meeting with Root that day. It wasn’t just the genius’ programming savvy she was interested in. She had assessed that Root had very strong relational ties; and this was the problem her employer was dealing with at the moment. Getting people into a dream state was one thing; getting them out was another.

If there had been an aerial view of the BEAR building that morning, it would have shown the several routes people were taking to arrive. Janine was storming in from the front; taking only a moment to kiss her lover goodbye outside. As soon as they parted, Zoe called the man who wore the Number 99 on his jersey, but it went to voicemail. His phone was turned off because he was getting instructions from his coach as the limo idled in the underground garage. Fusco was walking from his favorite donut place, after leaving his girlfriend to go to work. Root and Shaw pulled up out front. All parties were about to ascend to the same area.

Root promised to call Shaw as soon as Mara Kint arrived, but the woman wasn’t going to get past the front desk without Sameen knowing.

* * *

Sameen was making her way to her office; deep in thought about how her jealousy was really unfounded. Janine was trying to convince herself that she and Zoe had the best of intentions when they invited Aaron to dinner, but she felt she should apologize anyway. Fusco was simply doing what he did best; bringing his friend the donuts that were completely stricken from his diet.

“Least I could do for those great tickets,” he said, offering the bag as soon as she walked in.

“I think you’re getting a puppy,” Shaw said, because there was so much going on in her head.

“No, I’m not,” he answered.

“Check back later; I think you are,” she said, cryptically.

“Listen, I wanted to thank you for introducing me to…,” Fusco was saying and could hardly say the man’s name.

“I’m so sorry for introducing you to… Aaron Judge!” Janine said as she rushed into her boss’ office at the same time that Fusco’s lips could move.

“You’re _sorry_?” Fusco asked, wondering how that could be something to apologize for. “He’s great!”

Sameen sat there, chomping away at her jelly donut, watching her friends argue over the merits of the Yankee.

“He’s not so great!” Janine argued. “He’s a troublemaker, if you ask me!”

“Who asked you?” Fusco said of his new idol. “He gave us tickets!”

Janine was immediately suspicious of that whole sentence. She leaned down to get closer to the detective. “He gave… _you_ …tickets?” she asked.

You would think a man schooled in the art of interrogation would be able to withstand a little pressure like this; but he caved. “Well, he offered them to Shaw, but…”

“AHA!” she said, armed with that kernel of truth. “What was he doing giving her tickets?” she pressed him.

“He stopped by the car on Friday,” Fusco spilled his guts.

“AHA!” the assistant repeated as confirmation that the man was obsessed. “Don’t worry, Shaw,” she said to the woman who was too busy eating and smiling at the display. “I’m going to get to him.”

“What do you mean?” Fusco asked, worried. “He’s already having trouble; don’t upset him anymore.”

“And _why_ do you think he’s having trouble?” Janine asked and jerked her head toward the answer, with a raised eyebrow.

“Her?” he asked and looked at Shaw. “What have you done?”

“Her? It’s not her; I mean, yes, it’s her. He met her once at dinner and practically threw himself at her!” Janine exaggerated.

“Well, he didn’t…,” Shaw was trying to explain, but it was clear no one was interested in her opinion on the crisis.

“But don’t worry; I’m going to get to _Mr. Big Shot_ and take care of it,” Janine promised, getting all worked up and leaving the office.

“Do you carry a license for this weapon?” the cop asked Sameen.

“I don’t these are fresh,” Shaw noted when she swallowed the last bite of the second donut.

* * *

Down the hallway, in the privacy of the therapist’s office; the young ball player took a deep breath as he sat on the couch; across from the woman who waited patiently for him to answer her question; “Do you know what the cause is?”

“Look, Doc; I can’t believe I’m going to say this, because none of it makes any sense, okay? But, I met someone,” he confessed openly.

“Go on,” Iris said, her pen and pad in hand as she smiled at him.

“She’s married,” he said and was giving short answers to very complicated explanations. “And it’s not like there’s a chance; I mean – she’s happily married,” he said, casting his eyes to the floor. “Really happily married,” he repeated. “I mean, if you were to meet her; you’d see it right away.”

“So, you know there’s nothing there for you; is that correct?” Iris clarified.

“Right! I would never even try. But ever since I met her, Doc; I can’t seem to think about anything else,” he said, and his shoulders fell. “I’m a mess.”

Iris assured him that this was something they could work on and asked more delving questions about what he liked about this – yet unnamed – woman. All Iris knew was that he met her at a dinner he was asked to attend.

* * *

Maybe it wasn’t the best time for Shaw to ask Janine about her own situation. She had been sitting there wrestling with the fact that – in spite of knowing there was no reason for her to feel jealous – she was having this overwhelming urge to get in Mara Kint’s face.

“Okay, look; I have _two_ questions,” Shaw said when she asked her assistant to come back in. Janine took a seat while her boss started to pace the floor. “There’s a woman coming in to see Root; someone she met at boot camp; someone who is interested in picking her brain. She seems only interested in Root’s …. head,” Shaw said carefully. “But… _and this is the part you talk me out of_ ….,” she said, just in case the woman didn’t understand why she was there, “… I want to get all up in her face!”

“DO IT!” Janine jumped up and affirmed.

“What?” Shaw asked, taking a step back from the animated woman as if she were afraid. “You’re supposed to tell me…”

“No one gets between you! Do you hear me?” Janine said, mixing up the stories that had plagued her mind she got up that day. “If anyone is bothering you – even if they don’t mean to – well, they’ll have to answer to me!”

With that, the overzealous woman stomped out to call Zoe again to see if she had called the offender.

“Well, _that_ … was helpful… _not_!” Shaw said, hoping the friend would have presented a more rational approach. She shook her head and reflected on this. She snapped her fingers when it dawned on who she needed to talk to!

“I need to talk to Doc!” Shaw decided and headed that way.

It’s not like she needed an appointment. Right?

“Sorry, Shaw…,” Janine yelled to her boss as she left. “What was your second question?”

“Oh,” Sameen yelled back as she walked to Iris’ office. “Did you ever want a puppy? Think about that and I’ll get back to you.”


	115. The Day Dr. Campbell Considered Early Retirement

The young man was getting more and more uncomfortable with the feelings that seemed to pour out of him. “The heart wants what the heart wants, Doc; even though I can’t have it, you know?”

“That is very hard,” Iris empathized. “Can you talk about what you find so …?” she was asking, but the patient was very well aware.

“Oh, Doc; as soon as she walked into the room, I noticed her. I mean, there were _only_ four of us there, but she was amazing. I would have been able to spot her in the crowd at the stadium. She’s beautiful and smart and she…,” he said as he drifted back to first meeting Sameen.

“She…?” Iris prompted him to finish his thought.

He laughed when he thought about it. “She eats steak like no one I’ve ever seen,” he shook his head.

“What else?” Iris smiled, trying to picture the image he was painting with his descriptions.

“This is the crazy part, Doc. I know she’s not available. I mean, she was talking about her wife; and you could see that she was so in love; that there wasn’t a glimmer of hope that she would be interested. But man, did it make me wish I could find someone like that; someone who’s whole face changes when they mention your name. I’ve never seen anything it. It’s rare for me to meet someone, Doc, who doesn’t want something, you know what I mean?” asked the celebrity. “But I even tried to offer her tickets last week, and she wouldn’t take them! Made me give them to her friends.”

Iris stopped writing and looked up at him. Her boyfriend had just gushed over the fact that his BFF got him tickets. But Sameen having tickets was a far cry from her being offered tickets by the Yankee. This had to be a coincidence. Right?

“She wants nothing from me and it makes me like her even more,” Aaron confessed. He was giving the therapist’s question more thought.

“Where…,” Iris started to ask and her voice cracked. “Where… did you meet her?” She usually didn’t ask pointed questions like this; but something in her gut was pressing her to.

“Oh, at a friend’s dinner. Which is weird, right? Because Zoe asked me to come to meet her. I thought maybe it was a blind date or something. My friend is a… _sort of fixer_ … of things,” said the man who didn’t want to divulge too much.

He had just knocked the wind out of Iris; but she never let on. She was too busy connecting dots. Whenever someone was seeking her services and there was any sort of personal connection, she had to ask herself if it would interfere with the quality of the therapy for the patient. She was, after all, therapist to her boyfriend’s BFF, who often spent time complaining about him! Lovingly, of course.

Iris redirected her attention back to the patient and reviewed with him the things he said he liked about this woman who had been preoccupying his thoughts for days. She proposed some ideas; could he find these qualities in another woman?

“I doubt it highly, Doc; she’s the real deal,” the athlete sighed. “Do you think I’m crazy?” he finally asked because this had never happened to him before

“No,” Iris assured him; he was not and that seemed to bring him some immediate relief. Her calm, caring tone assured him this was something they could work on together. He asked her what to do in the meantime, and they started to discuss some strategies. “This woman – represents what might be missing in your life,” the therapist proposed.

Iris had just finished her session with the beleaguered athlete and was suggesting that the next time they meet; they might do it somewhere else. She was putting the information together and suspected that the object of his affection worked down the hall.

The man was very grateful and was surprised at how comfortable he felt talking to this woman.

Iris decided she would push the envelope – just to be sure.

“I meant to ask,” she smiled when he stood up, “Does this woman… have a name?”

* * *

Kudos to Iris’ secretary for trying to stop Sameen outside, but she was too slow. And to be honest, Sameen _never_ expected anyone to be in Iris’ office because; in spite of her encouraging the therapist to simply pull anyone in there because they all needed help, there _never_ was anyone there.

Shaw was truly surprised that there were two people in the room. Iris was surprised that the door flew open and Shaw walked in. Aaron was surprised to see the woman he spent the hour talking about was suddenly there.

Iris thought it was poor timing.

Shaw thought it was weird that Iris had other clients.

Aaron thought it might be kismet that Shaw appeared.

“SHAW?” Aaron and Iris _both_ said; only one of them infatuated.

“What are you doing here?” Shaw asked Number 99; while Iris asked her the same question. It was like an echo chamber.

“She’s my therapist,” admitted the man whose brain was going off line because he couldn’t believe his good luck.

“Your therapist? She’s _my_ therapist,” Shaw said in a very telling statement. She turned to look directly at Iris. “I told you to help people, and _THIS_ is who you got?”

“Sameen, could we discuss this…,” Iris said, because a violation of privacy was happening and no one seemed to care except her.

“It is so good to see you,” admitted the smitten ball player. He thought Shaw was pointing out that they both had the same therapist – a real connection.

“Yeah, I’d say the same, but not… in here,” Shaw said, sweeping her hand across the room she felt was hers.

“Why don’t we talk about this…,” Iris tried again, but no one was listening. It was like trying to pull apart magnets – Aaron interested in seeing Shaw; Shaw interested in why he was there.

“Is this about your sucky performance of late?” Shaw blurted out. “Because, man, you are losing it out there! You’re killing me!”

“Sameen!” Iris said, but her current patient was more than willing to divulge the reason he was there.

“Yes, we’re getting at the heart of that and it’s amazing you should be here, because…,” he spilled and would have said a great deal more, but Iris stopped him.

* * *

“Why would I want a puppy?” Janine was asking when her boss reappeared in the doorway. Dressed rather differently. “How did you?” she was asking when the woman asked where Iris Campbell’s office was. “Right, like you don’t know where it is,” the assistant laughed, thinking her boss was trying to be funny. “Are you okay? You don’t look…,” Janine was saying, but she wasn’t sure what the rest of that thought was. Her boss looked … the same, but very different.

“Iris Campbell?” the woman repeated and someone said – down the hallway to the right.

“Who the hell is that?” Janine asked when the woman walked down the hallway.

Making the best use of her time; Mara Kint had decided to drop in on her old school chum. They had both attended Harvard, both majoring in psychology. They hadn’t connected in a while, and Mara thought it would be a nice to surprise her old roommate.

Mara’s arrival was on the Machine’s radar. She had been instructed to alert Shaw as soon as she arrived. A text did arrive on Shaw’s phone, but she was busy trying to figure out what the Yankee was doing in her therapist’s office. Root, however, was aware of her arrival – and her stopover on the floor below her. That, Root decided, was not a good idea.

“Did you see…?” Root asked Janine.

“Someone who looks like Shaw?” she completed the thought. “Who is that?”

“Where?” Root asked.

“She went to see Doctor Campbell, I think,” Janine said as she watched Root rush to the scene.

* * *

And then, as if the trio in Iris’ office wasn’t creating enough chaos, Mara Kint appeared.

“Is Doctor Campbell in? “ she asked the harried assistant.

“Oh, so _NOW_ you stop and ask me,” the woman shook her head. “Aren’t you just going to barge through like always?” she asked, turning back to her computer; certain it was the usual offender – again.

Mara stepped back and was about to knock, when the door flew open.

“Iris?” Mara said and stood there smiling.

“Mara?” Iris and Root said because the tech genius had just turned the corner.

“Who is that?” Aaron asked – at the same time Shaw did.

“What are you doing here?” Iris asked … and so did Root.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mara said and suddenly saw the famous athlete behind Iris. “Is that…?” Mara was asking at the same time Shaw was asking – anyone - if that was the woman she wanted to meet.

“I told you to text me!” Shaw shouted up in the air and Aaron stared at her. The phone beeped and Sameen looked at it. “Ugh, I hate it when she’s right,” she said of the Machine.

While polite company tried to straighten things out, Root took note of who was in Iris’ office and Shaw took note of who was in Iris’ waiting room. People started to converge in the small waiting area; trading places as they circled around Iris. She was trying to keep people apart, but then she heard the lock on her door click. She turned around to see that Shaw was outside her office; but Aaron and Root were nowhere to be found. She immediately deduced that if SHE was able to figure out who the ballplayer was infatuated with; certainly Root had figured it out.

“No, no, no,” Iris said, rattling the doorknob that wouldn’t budge. “Ms. Groves?” she called, trying to stay calm. “It would seem my door is locked.”

“Should I come back?” Mara asked, seeing the commotion.

“Could you?” Iris asked and suggested later that afternoon. “Root?” Iris said, turning back to the door.

“Just be a minute,” Root called back and then turned to face the unsuspecting man. “Hello, Aaron; let’s have a chat, shall we?” she asked in a friendly manner and pointed for him to retake his seat.

“Ms. Groves!” Iris tried again calling her boss; “This is highly irregular,” she pointed out.

Highly irregular had just spilled over to the waiting room where Sameen had realized the woman she wanted to meet was standing there in front of her.

“Let’s have a little chat, okay?” Shaw said, taking Mara by the elbow.

“You must be… Shaw,” the woman said, happy to meet the woman who was Root’s raison d’etre.

“Yeah, we’ll check back on that answer in a few minutes,” Shaw scoffed and gently pushed Mara down the hallway.

“Shaw?” Iris called after her. “Where are you going with her?”

* * *

“Aaron; I’m Samantha Shaw-Groves, but you can call me… Mrs. Shaw-Groves,” Root smiled and sat in Iris’ chair.

“How do you do? I’m…,” Aaron said, about to introduce himself.

“You’re the man who can’t get my wife off his mind even though you know with every fiber of your being, she’s not available,” Root said smiling, but he doubted she meant it.

“I thought this was all confidential,” the man said, worried.

“Oh, it is; except for the manifestation of your obsession being exhibited in your work related abilities,” Root pointed out.

“Huh?” the young man asked, very unsure of what was happening.

“Aaron, I, of all people, understand what you’re going through. You see, I’m obsessed with her, too,” Root smiled and sat back and sighed because that was the God’s honest truth. “I have been since I met her.”

“Look, Mrs. Shaw-Groves, I don’t mean any disrespect and I don’t want any trouble,” Aaron said truthfully.

“Good, because _neither_ would work well in your favor,” Root smiled back assuredly. “Now, I don’t want to disrespect Dr. Campbell code of ethics, so I’m going to make this very short. I hope you’ll take full advantage of the skills that Doctor Campbell has in helping you deal with this. And while I know you know Shaw has no interest in you; she does take great pride in being your team’s ultimate fan; so please work hard at this, Mr. Judge, so you can start playing better. It’s really upsetting Shaw,” Root explained.

“I know,” Aaron said. “All the fans are, really.”

“Sure, but I really only care about _one_ fan,” Root said and gave him her version of a wink. “So, you continue to work with Dr. Campbell and do your best to work this through and we won’t have any trouble,” said the woman who understood his situation.

“Okay,” he agreed because there was something about the way she said that last word that made he believe she meant it.

She gave him a piece of paper to sign; a prop she would need in a minute.

With that, Root got up and opened the door. She could see the worried look on Iris’ face as she peered into the room. “I’m sorry; did I lock this?” she asked, innocently. “He’s kind of a big deal in my house,” Root said and showed the paper with the autograph. “For Shaw.”

Iris looked at the man who seemed to be fine. “I’m sorry,” she said of the intrusions.

“No, it’s fine,” the client assure her. “I’m happy to meet Shaw’s wife.”

Then, he thanked the therapist and said he’d like to see her again. He asked Root if she would walk him to the elevator. “I’m not embarrassed by this,” he said confidently.

“I like you, Aaron,” Root said now that they had an understanding.

Iris’ assistant finally looked up. “It’s remarkable how much that woman looks like Shaw,” she segued.

“Who?” Iris asked.

“Your friend,” the woman answered.

“Really?” Iris remarked, unable to see it.

* * *

Mara was getting an understanding of her own down the hallway. Shaw was pacing in front of her, not yet saying anything because she was forming the words in her head.

“First; I can’t believe anyone thinks you look like me!” Shaw said, grimacing at how there could be any comparison. “What do you lift?”

“I’m sorry?” Mara said, fascinated at what she was observing. Shaw was all but marking her territory in her pacing.

“Dead lift. What can you…?” Shaw asked.

“Oh, no, I can’t do that,” Mara confessed.

“Ha! I knew it!,” Shaw said as if this was more proof there were no similarities. She sat down across from her kidnapped guest and asked; “Do you like steak?”

Unsure of where this was going, Mara decided she’d play along. “I prefer salmon,” she answered.

“Oh, my God! Are they nuts?” Shaw barked. She jumped up and asked Janine to come in. “Are you seriously going to tell me this woman looks like me?”

Janine knew what answer her boss wanted to hear; but there was an uncanny resemblance. Then, a light bulb went off. “I…can tell the difference; but I’m not sure everyone could.”

“See?” Shaw said, accepting of that weak answer. She walked back into her office. “Listen, sista; truthfully, I have nothing to worry about with Root.”

“Then, why the display?” Mara asked, clinically assessing the woman who could snap her in two.

“ _Display_?” Shaw barked, not liking the word. “Because I’m very territorial, whatever you name is.”

“Mara Kint,” Mara said bravely.

Janine sensed the tension building up and jumped up just in time to see Root walking down towards her.

“Okay, “ the assistant admitted nervously, “… I may have encouraged her… a little … to take matters into her own hands,” she said, pulling Root inside.

“Stay,” Root said to the tall man and he did.

She followed Janine inside, but stopped her from walking into Shaw’s office. She wanted to hear her wife a little longer.

“Listen, Myka, Marrow, whatever;” Shaw said frustrated she couldn’t remember the name; “… a little bird told me that you have a habit of touching my wife’s hand. Now, maybe that’s because you’re a behavior…,” Shaw said, waving her hand unable to recall.

“Specialist,” Mara smiled, absolutely taken with the conduct she was witnessing.

Shaw stared down at her hard. “What! Ever!” she remarked. “If you’re going to work with my wife; we better get a couple of things straight, okay?

“Oh, my God,” Root whispered at the sound of Shaw getting up in Mara’s face. Janine put her arms out to help her boss stay vertical.

“Sure,” Mara said, because she wanted to keep this woman talking.

“Do not touch her. Don’t put your hand on her hand. And I think for all parties involved, it would be a good idea if I’m present at all the meetings,” Shaw decided at the spur of that moment.

“Oh, I would really like you to be there,” Mara said because it was the dynamic of the couple’s relationship that she was interested in.

“Good,” Shaw said, finding the woman unsettlingly agreeable. “Okay, just so we’re clear – Root is mine.”

Root couldn’t take any more and rushed in to grab her wife and kiss her. “You are amazing,” Root gushed and embarrassed Sameen.

“You’re killing my tough vibe, here, Root,” she pointed out.

“Not at all; I understand perfectly,” Mara said, but was smiling from ear to ear. She had to call her boss and tell him the good news. “Could we meet in a little bit?” she asked Root.

“Sure,” Root said and walked outside with her arm threaded through Shaw’s.

“Oh, Aaron,” Root said, forgetting she told the man to wait there. “This is Mara; Mara this is Aaron,” she said, as they both got on the elevator.

“Wow!” the ball player said. “Do you know, you look exactly like Shaw?” he asked as the door closed.

“SHE DOES NOT!!” Sameen banged on the metal door. “That man really does need help,” she huffed.

“Come here, you,” Root said, grabbing Sameen in a hug and kissing those complaining lips. “There’s no one like you, Sweetie. No one in the world.”

“I know that, Root,” Shaw said, before her wife kissed her again.


	116. The Machine Lends a Helping Hand

Sameen may not have been able to stop the comparison going on in the elevator, but someone was already stopping the door from closing. Pushing her foot inside to make it stop; Janine caused the entrance to reopen and stepped inside.

“Oh, hello,” Mara Kint said to the woman she recognized from before.

“Hi,” Aaron greeted the woman from dinner. “You’re Zoe’s girlfriend, right?”

“I’m your _worst_ …,” Janine was jumping the gun when her phone beeped – loudly. She looked down at it. Only one entity could take over the ring tone on her phone and raise the volume to a near deafening level.

‘ _I got this,_ ’ – the Machine texted in Shaw’s vernacular.

“You got what?” Janine asked, knowing to look up at the camera in the corner. Mara and the baseball player exchanged concerned glances.

‘ _Get off at the next floor_ ,’ – the next text read. ‘ _They just need some alone time_.’

* * *

Root was busy consoling Shaw or she would have taken more notice of the assistant in her hasty retreat. But Zoe Morgan had finally received a text from the dinner guest that he had a therapy appointment because people were suggesting something was on his mind that was ruining his game. In his innocent manner, he confessed to his friend; the Fixer; that it might be Shaw. The phone flew out of Zoe’s hand because he confirmed what Janine suspected, and now the two would be in the same building.

“Not good; not good,” she repeated as she ran to BEAR.

Zoe flew off the second elevator, seconds after Janine forced her way into the other one. “Where…,” Zoe said out of breath. “… is she?” she said, but held onto the wall because she had run quite the distance.

“Janine?” Root asked and looked around. “Oh, she got on the other elevator I think.”

“YOU _THINK_?” Zoe said and Shaw automatically took a step forward. “Listen, Shaw; she’s got it in her head that Aaron is…,” and then the woman who was good with words, stopped. The man didn’t need three women after him.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Root assured her. “Aaron and I have come to an _understanding_.”

“You need to get in shape,” Shaw smiled, throwing her competitive friend a little shade.

“You better… get your … watchdog,” Zoe said and took a deep breath to compose herself. “I don’t run in my job, Shaw.”

“Are you worried about Janine?” Root asked because she could see their friend was anxious.

“We weren’t planning on him being anywhere near her. Does she know you and Aaron came to an _understanding_?” Zoe pointed out.

“What are you so worried about?” Shaw asked.

“You know she’s your self-appointed protector, right?” Zoe pointed out.

“Right, like I need…,” Shaw scoffed.

“It’s not about what you _need_ , Shaw. It’s about what she _thinks_ her job is,” Zoe explained.

Then, Root uttered _two_ words Sameen hated to hear.

“She’s right,” Root agreed and Shaw looked over at Zoe just as she was wearing the – ‘ _I told you, so_ ,’ expression.

Sameen was arguing with Zoe now as Root’s phone beeped. If there was ever a day when the Machine was glad she didn’t share in human emotions; it might have been that day.

“It’s okay,” Root assured the two bickering friends. “She’s on her way back.”

“Is Aaron…?” Zoe had to ask.

“Seems she left him in one piece,” Root smiled.

Just then, Janine got off the same elevator her lover had just come up on. She had done as the Machine requested. “Tell her I’m checking on them before they leave,” Janine said cryptically to Root who would have responded, but the elevator alarm went off.

“I think she’s got it covered,” Root said, when she saw that the elevator containing the two guests was stuck indefinitely. “Mara’s going to be late for our meeting,” she smiled to Shaw.

“Do you know that chick would choose salmon over steak?” Shaw said, horrified.

“Sweetie, you didn’t…?” Zoe asked, holding onto her lover’s arms.

“No, but I would have,” she assured her.

“Root and he have come to an _understanding_ ,” Zoe informed her.

Janine looked over Zoe’s shoulder to Root, whose smile confirmed that they indeed had.

“Okay, good,” she said and took Zoe by the hand, pressing the down button on the elevator.

“Where are we going?” Zoe asked as she stumbled forward from the jerky movement.

“We’re going to be waiting downstairs for that elevator when it gets released,” she explained; not taking any chances.

“Shaw…,” Zoe tried to call for assistance as her girlfriend pulled her into the elevator.

Shaw found it too tempting not to tease her friend. “Good luck with that, Morgan,” she laughed as the door closed. She turned back, victorious in her teasing, to see the serious look on Root’s face. “What?” she asked, not wanting her wife’s logic to spoil her fun.

* * *

“Aren’t you curious about what Mara Kint wants with us?” Root asked, finally giving thought to something other than Shaw.

“Root, I learned a long time ago not to trust anyone who would choose fish over meat,” Sameen explained plainly.

The CEO looked up and down the hallway. “I must admit,” Root said, pulling Sameen into an empty office and closing the door, “… I find your assertiveness a real turn-on.” Root’s entire face was smiling now, at just the thought of Sameen being so territorial.

“Root? Is there _anything_ I do that isn’t a turn on for you?” Shaw asked truthfully.

Root gave every question Sameen asked serious consideration – whether she wanted her to or not. “Well, not everything you do makes me think of doing dirty things to you,” Root confessed.

“Dirty things? Oh, wow – do tell,” Shaw said, moving into Root’s personal space because that sounded like fun.

“I’d like to rip all your clothes off…,” Root smiled, making it up as she went along because this was never a challenge.

“You _always_ want to do that,” Shaw pointed out.

“True, but I’ve been away and now I just want to see you naked all the time,” Root admitted.

“So, you’re coming clean… about your dirty thoughts?” Shaw laughed at her own play on words.

Root couldn’t take any more teasing and leaned into to kiss those plump lips. “God, I missed you so much,” Root said, her body on fire at Sameen’s touch.

“Shut those blinds,” Shaw said and Root did as Sameen pulled at her own clothes. Root followed as Sameen locked the door.

Root pressed Sameen up hard against the filing cabinet, making a loud bang sound. It only added to the couple’s coupled excitement. Sameen was on her high of being territorial and Root’s adrenalin was still rushing from putting the lovesick ball player in place.

“I told her _never_ to put her hands on you again,” Shaw bragged as Root’s kisses navigated down her torso.

“Well, I told him he wasn’t getting to first base with you,” Root smiled. “And to not even try.”

Shaw was a natural at being assertive; but Root doing it was a complete turn on for her. “You told him that?” she asked to be sure.

“I told him if he looked at you, I’d make sure he’d never have another _touchdown_ again,” Root said, using the totally incorrect term for the sport. Ordinarily, this faux pas would make Shaw groan in pain. This time, she moaned with excitement as she lift Root up off her feet and placed her down hard on the conference table.

Root didn’t feel the pain of her tailbone hitting the hard surface. And if the two women weren’t on fire, perhaps they would have been gentler in pushing laptops that rested on the table, out of their way. But there was no time for niceties when you’ve missed your lover and every cell in your being is craving their touch.

Hands pushed and navigated skin as the couple jockeyed for position on the cold, flat surface. And if Root wasn’t about to explode anyway, Shaw’s short message of – “You belong to me!” sent her right over the edge. Shaw’s hands were exploring her wife when Root reached up and pulled Shaw up on top of her. “And you… are mine, Shaw. No one else’s,” Root said as bodies intertwined and hands pushed at each other in haste.

“Oh, God; oh, God!” Root screamed – because the craving both ached and felt exquisite at the same moment.

Shaw was less eloquent in her dire rush to ease the insatiable pressure that made her arch her back and pressed down hard, both to relieve and be relieved of the mounting tension. She grunted loudly as she moved to find the exact position that finally aided both women to climax simultaneously.

The tension – having built up over a week – propelled the couple into loud thrashing coitus. Bodies thrashed as equipment crashed around them. When they were done, they had worked their way from one end of the table to the other – swiping anything out of their way.

“Who the hell put all these laptops on the floor?” Shaw asked, as they slowly got up and redressed. “Could you try not to…,” she was asking politely as she showed Root her t shirt was missing a sleeve.

“It looks good on you,” Root smiled, because it showed off more of her wife’s incredibly toned arm.

“Thanks,” Shaw said and tried to pull at the other sleeve, but it didn’t budge. “Wow, you’re strong when you’re turned on.”

Root all but blushed at the compliment. “I know,” she said – giving Shaw a body wink that started with her shoulders and included her entire head.

* * *

By the time the happy couple emerged unnoticed from the room; the elevator was slowly starting.

“Oh, that was so scary,” Mara confessed because she started to panic in the enclosed space.

“I hope you’re okay,” the ballplayer said, as the woman stayed in his arms where she’d practically leapt moments before when the elevator jerked.

“Yes, thanks; I am,” Mara said, but stayed in his arms.

They had been having a very pleasant conversation when all of a sudden, the elevator stopped.

The closeness of the situation allowed Mara to feel the strength behind the tall man’s hold on her. It afforded him the opportunity to inhale her perfume and notice how much she resembled Sameen.

“Would you like to talk about this…,” Number 99 was suggesting when she finished his thought.

“Over lunch?” Mara hoped.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Yes, I would,” Mara agreed – just in time for the doors to open.

Mara forgot to let go of him until they came into view of the people in the lobby. She released him just as Janine caught sight of them.

“See? I told you it would work out,” Zoe said, letting out her own sigh of relief.

People gathered to make sure the occupants were okay, which they were.

It was a long distance between Janine’s short stature and the six-seven man’s eyes – but that didn’t stop her from pointing to her own and then back up at his.

“I don’t know why; but I don’t think your girlfriend likes me very much,” Aaron whispered to Zoe.

“Just start winning again, Aaron; so we can all go back to normal. Well, for what passes as normal around here,” Zoe smiled.

* * *

At the start of the afternoon that day, people returned from lunch to resume the meeting that had been going on in the conference room. Several of them walked in to see the total disarray of the space.

“What the hell happened in here?” one asked of the crashed laptops.

“Looks like an earthquake,” another remarked.

Root was sitting in Shaw’s office and could hear the commotion as they tried to figure out the cause.

“Well, they’re not entirely wrong,” she whispered to her wife. “The earth did move.”


	117. A New Light

Zoe wasn’t sure if she was hesitant or just turned on by the way her partner was eyeing the much taller man. But she did understand that her devotion to her boss bordered on obsessional and that is what probably prevented the younger woman from seeing what was going on.

“Listen, uhm…,” Zoe said quietly, gently pulling at her girlfriend’s arm as she shouted – “THAT’S RIGHT!” and causing heads to turn. “Honey?”

Janine was too busy jerking her shoulders in an aggressive stance just in case she needed to prove her point. “Thinks he can have a crush on whoever he wants,” she was murmuring, unable to see the smile on Zoe’s face. She turned to Zoe. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this,” she apologized.

The Fixer bit her inside lip. “It’s okay; we’re in this together,” she consoled her.

“Still, I’m sorry you… had to see that,” Janine said as if Zoe had just witnessed her put a hurting on the man.

“I wouldn’t have missed if for the world,” confessed Zoe who finally had come around to actually admiring her lover’s protectiveness for the woman who didn’t need it.

“Yeah?” Janine asked wondering if she’d made a fool of herself.

“I’m just glad you didn’t have to do anything to him,” Zoe flamed those embers and pulled Janine in for a kiss. “You, honey; are a force to be reckoned with.”

Janine liked the sound of that – very much. Her whole body moved as she drew in a deep breath. If she had been wearing a belt; she probably would have hooked her thumbs through it. Instead, she just pulled Zoe forcefully by the hand. “Let’s go to lunch,” she said without a hint there was a choice. “I’m sorry; did I hurt your wrist?” the overzealous girlfriend checked.

“Not at all,” Zoe smiled allowing the tug, “… do you know your badassery tugs on my heartstrings as hard as that?”

Janine stopped in the middle of the large lobby of BEAR to look at the lips that just shared that information. “I would never let anything happen to you,” she declared to Zoe. Zoe would have thanked her, but her mouth was otherwise engaged in the hottest kiss she’d ever experienced in her life.

Staring into each other’s eyes now, both knew – they never wanted this to change.

* * *

Root watched as Sameen flopped down at her desk; her legs spread apart as she leaned all the way back in the chair. It was obvious she was in deep thought.

“I’m starving,” Shaw finally concluded because something was wrong with the world.

“Let’s eat,” Root smiled.

“No, like really, Root; I’m starving for food,” Shaw clarified just in case.

“Okay,” Root agreed. She enjoyed watching that mouth move in a variety of situations.

As Sameen stuffed the over-stuffed pastrami sandwich in her mouth – it never occurred to her not to speak as the same time.

“Wuhnudtafiggaoudhoozgud,” she said and Root’s expression didn’t change as she tried to interpret.

“Oh, you want to figure out who would make a good puppy-parent?” Root guessed and when Shaw nodded, she clasped her hands.

“Derwulberulls,” Shaw added.

“What kind of rules, Sweetie?” Root asked, pushing the Coke closer so Sameen would take a sip. Root took measured bites of her grilled chicken salad as she listened.

“Idunno,budwecantjutgidemaway,” Shaw explained through her next huge bite.

“No, we can’t just give them away,” Root translated.

Sameen finished the sandwich much faster than Root managed to eat her entrée. “Fusco, of course and Reese. Reese will definitely want a male because he bitched about Bear being too coddled,” Shaw relayed and took a napkin to write down her deep analysis of potentials. “Do you think my sister is stable enough? I don’t want her talking the poor thing to death.”

Root had to laugh at that and placed a napkin to her mouth to prevent spillage. “Martine would be good,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, good point. That’s three,” Shaw said, tapping her chin with the pen.

“Janine?” Root asked the next logical choice.

“Yeah, I was thinking of her, but no dressing them up in outfits; that’s gotta be a rule,” Shaw stated.

“Of course,” Root agreed, curling her lips inward not to laugh at how serious Sameen was about that rule.

“And no putting them in baby carriages!” Shaw added because that annoyed her.

“Oh,” Root said, remembering a time when Bear was sort of in one.

Sameen shot her a hard look and Root had no choice but to confess. “It was a child’s toy carriage and I only took him for a walk in it once when he was tired,” she explained.

“And _that_ , ladies and gentlemen, is why Bear is the pain in the ass dog we have today,” Shaw teased.

“That’s only four,” Root tried to get her wife back on track.

“Okay,” Sameen said, reaching over to take some chicken off of Root’s plate and eating it. “My mother will watch Ayala’s and Martine’s; so that leaves the Kid and Isabelle.”

“Gen? But she’s at college…,” Root pointed out.

“Right, but with a puppy to take care of, she’ll be home more often,” Shaw said deviously. “Plus, I like the idea of dog hair getting all over Harry’s stuff.”

“Oh, you,” Root laughed because her wife always had reservations about her adopted uncle.

“I think we give _Trouble_ to Isabelle. As the runt, she’ll need a lot of TLC and that woman has it in droves,” Shaw decided.

“We should have a dinner and invite everyone to give them the good news,” Root said, wondering if in fact, that’s how they would take it.

“Enstardthesceeninprohsess,” Shaw decided, taking one more piece of chicken in her mouth.

* * *

“We have a meeting with Mara Kint first,” Root reminded her wife as they walked back to their respective offices.

“Did… she…?” Shaw asked, looking up at a security camera,” … tell you this chick’s deal?”

That would have been too easy as far as Root was concerned. “I think we should take this one ourselves,” she shared with Shaw.

“Oh, so _not_ a problem for me,” her wife flexed her muscles in her answer. “I look forward to meeting Mary…”

“Mara,” Root said.

“Ma-ra,” Shaw repeated slowly. “My tongue refuses to say that name.”

“You leave your tongue to me; it’s perfect just the way it is,” Root whispered, leaning in to kiss and pull at the body part in question.

* * *

Mara had a lovely lunch with the baseball celebrity and unbeknownst to everyone – the media thought this was not their first date. It put the spotlight on Mara; and took it completely off Shaw.

“Do you think I look like Sameen Shaw-Groves?” Mara asked the man who had spent the better part of an hour staring at her.

“Some… what, I guess,” he tried to downplay it.

“Well, my supposed twin doesn’t think so,” Mara laughed, but her date couldn’t have disagreed more.

* * *

The mysterious woman was slowly making her way back to Bear that afternoon; after texting Root that she would be late for their meeting. The Machine had already reported back to Root that the enforced time alone in the elevator worked well to solidify the athlete’s interest in Mara, and vice versa. “You’re quite the little matchmaker, aren’t you?” Root teased the AI. She laughed when the program was searching the colloquialism to see if it was a correct match.  
Sameen returned to her office, just in time to see Zoe approaching her. “Look, Shaw; I know I said you needed to discourage her from … doing what she does…,” she whispered.

“Yeah, okay; I’ll have a talk with her,” Shaw agreed.

“No, no, it’s okay; don’t bother,” Zoe said, pulling Shaw out of sight. Shaw looked down at the hand that was on her arm; a rather brave gesture. “Just let it run its course; let her have fun with it; it’ll wane on its own,’ Zoe oversold it.

Shaw looked up suspiciously at the woman who was typically cool and collected. It seemed obvious that she didn’t want Sameen to alter what was going on with the overenthusiastic assistant. Shaw had learned a thing or two… or a dozen… about weird things that turn people on.

“Let me get this straight,” Shaw belabored the point. “You don’t want me to say anything…?”

“No,” Zoe gave the short answer.

“You don’t want me to let her know that she doesn’t need to…,” Shaw tried again.

“No, Shaw; we’re good,” Zoe jumped.

Now, Shaw was certain.

“You like that she’s trying to be a real badass, don’t you?” Shaw surmised correctly.

“She IS being one,” Zoe corrected Sameen and looked back to see if the woman in question was on her way back.

“Oh, I see,” Shaw said and smiled knowingly. “And you… suddenly… don’t mind it; is that right?”

“Look, Shaw; I can’t explain it okay? But she’s ….,” Zoe tried to elaborate.

“Okay, no further details needed; I get it. I won’t say a word,” Shaw promised.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Zoe said and truly meant it. “I owe you.”

Sameen respected the way Zoe Morgan thought. She would have felt the same way if she were in her shoes.

“Male or female?” Shaw asked – getting a little ahead of herself and confusing the hell out of Zoe.

“What?” Zoe asked confused.

“We’ll decide over dinner,” Shaw assured her.


	118. Programming Chip; Chip on Her Shoulder; and Chip Off the Old Block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Taking literary license here with exposing the puppies who won't leave their mom for eight weeks.

Mara Kint did finally make it back to Root’s office and apologized for being late. “We were stuck in the elevator and then we decided to grab lunch,” she explained to Root who listened quietly. “He’s very… sweet,” she finally said.

“So, I’ve heard,” Root smiled.

Then, on cue, Sameen made her entrance, in typical _Shaw_ style. The door flew open and she filled the doorway- just to make sure this woman knew she was there. Her face smiled, but her demeanor all but announced if there was any touching, there’d be trouble. Root noticed the aggressive walk immediately and in spite of being in flat boots; Shaw swaggered over.

“I _really_ hope you got things back on track,” she said cryptically because she was tired of her favorite baseball team losing.

Mara apologized and said she didn’t understand, but Root took the meeting over.

“Mara, perhaps if you could outline for us where you think our connection would fit?” Root gently suggested because she could see the way Shaw was eyeing the woman that – patience was going to be in short supply.

Mara smiled uncomfortably, the way you do when you’re about to share something you’re not entirely convinced the other person will get – or like. She was about to start, when Shaw finally picked her seat and sat down right next to Root and coughing to clear her throat.

“Sorry,” said the woman who wasn’t at all. She was trying to throw the guest off her game and so far, she was succeeding.

“The company I work with has developed a program that allows people to have an active part in a virtual reality scenario,” Mara began.

“Interesting,” said Root and leaned in.

“I’ve been asked to help them on the behavioral side of things,” Mara added.

“Like VR addiction?” Shaw asked because she wanted this woman to know she brought her A game.

“Well, yes, actually,” Mara smiled and decided Shaw was brighter than she let on.

Feeling like she had an audience that could grasp what she was saying, Mara went on to highlight the major components of the program and its drawbacks.

“So, they’re hoping to be able to allow a second party to connect to someone’s own virtual world if there are issues?” Root clarified.

“Yes,” Mara replied. “The concern is that we could potentially lose someone in there.”

“In their dream state?” Shaw asked.

“Yes,” Mara said.

“What do you want us for?” Shaw asked pointedly. “She’s not running recon,” she added – just in case this was one brainiac wanting the talents of another more qualified brainiac.

“She’s not going either,” Root pointed out because you would think they’d want a talented reconnaissance person.

Mara smiled at the duo’s simultaneous declarations and sat back in her chair, folding her hands in front of her. “ _This_ … is exactly what interests me.”

Shaw looked at Root and her wife read the expression immediately. “Not yet, Sweetie,” Root replied because she knew Shaw was asking if she could kick this chick’s ass now?

“See _that_? _Right_ there? The connection you two share? It’s intense; it’s palpable and if we could understand the components, we might be able to develop an antidote to what happens inside,” Mara laid out her plan.

Root was impressed, but Shaw wasn’t having any of this. “You think you can… study this?” she asked incredulously, waving her finger back and forth between her and Root. “Like in a lab?” she laughed.

Mara wasn’t easily deterred. The psychologist had studied a lot of human behavior in couples and she knew unusual when she saw it. “We’d like to study you in more natural settings,” Mara explained.

Root placed her hand on Shaw’s and asked; “Mara, even if I _thought_ you could document what makes our relationship so strong; I can tell you right now, there isn’t anything you could offer me if I were in a dream state that offered me Shaw.”

Mara could tell by looking at Sameen, she had better tread lightly. “Suppose you had to come back; for other obligations?”

Root got it immediately; Shaw didn’t like the look of concern on her wife’s face.

“Look, _Salmon_ ,” Shaw nicknamed her doppelganger, “I don’t know what it is...,” she was threatening when Root suddenly agreed.

“I think maybe we should,” Root said, her soft brown eyes watery at the thought of what that pull must be like.

“What?” Shaw asked, slightly a step behind because her mind was on snapping the woman in two.

“It’s not about the program, Sameen,” Root explained because originally, she thought Mara wanted her for her programing skills. “It’s about people who don’t want to come back; who want to stay there.”

Mara appealed to the former physician. “Their bodies can’t sustain that suspended state.”

Shaw stopped and listened. She was beginning to understand this wasn’t a software issue; it was far worse – it was a human issue. A slight smile crossed Sameen’s face as she relaxed and sat back.

“You can program computers, Doc; you sure as hell can’t program people.”

Now, Mara sat back, too; assured that both women now understood what her mission was.

The conversation continued in a much calmer fashion, which gave their guest the time and space to outline some of her ideas. Simply put; Mara believed she could break down Shaw and Root’s relationship into observable and imperceptible behaviors and create behavioral antidotes to future challenges in the program.

Root said they would discuss it and get back to Mara. That was fine with Shaw; so she went on to her second most important issue.

“That Aaron is really cute, wouldn’t you say?” Shaw asked Mara as she was getting ready to leave. “I mean, you don’t find guys like him walking the streets.”

Mara smiled at Shaw and looked at Root. “I’ll certainly see what I can do,” Mara assured the worried Yankee fan.

“Yeah, cause we’re talking World Series here, okay?” Shaw said,

Mara thanked them both and said she’d wait to hear from Root.

“She’s alright, I guess,” Shaw said of the woman.

“You’re just saying that because you want her to save your team,” Root teased and pushed her hip into Shaw, pulling her in for a hug.

“All bets are off if she screws this up,” Shaw smiled, but wasn’t kidding.

“What do you think about allowing her to… study… us?” Root asked.

Shaw thought about it and smiled. “She really thinks she can measure this?” she laughed, looking up into adoring brown eyes. “Yeah, good luck with that, Mary.”

“Mara,” Root corrected her because she knew Shaw did that on purpose.

“Whatever,” Shaw smiled and kissed her wife.

* * *

The e-vite was simple and to the point. Each person invited to dinner was told exactly what time to be there.

The couple went home early; they had to tell Bear about their idea.

As Root played with Michael, she gently explained to her what they were going to do. Michael’s eyes were glued to her mother as Root’s soft voice explained how they wanted to go about this.

In the meantime, Shaw was explaining things to Bear.

“I’ve got it all figured out,” she assured him and he definitely gave her a dubious look. “Don’t you trust me?” she just had to ask. Bear answered and Shaw took offense to his counter argument. “I didn’t lose you!” she contended. “You insisted on going down one path and I said – fine, but you’ll get lost and what happened? You did,” she told her version of the story.

Bear howled it was abandonment.

The debate continued as the two marched into the living room where Root and Michael were.

“Again with that? I told you – it’s a law! If I don’t clean up after you, I’ll get a ticket!” Shaw said of the demeaning job of scooping poop. Bear sat there and shot her a look as if to say – ‘if you say so.’ As far as the canine was concerned; it pretty much summed up their positions in the hierarchy. “I’m never taking him to the park again,” complained Sameen.

Michael watched her mother argue with Bear and thought it was very funny. The more she laughed, the more Bear did it.

He strutted around Sameen in a complete circle, as the woman threw her head back and rolled her eyes.

“We’ve been over this; you guys have litters, we don’t. _More_ doesn’t mean you’re better at it, okay?”

Root smiled to think how easily Bear had trained Sameen to participate in this heated discussion.

“You take his bait,” she said to her wife, but Bear howled back that he was not doing that.

“I swear I just heard him laugh,” Shaw said suspiciously.

“Did you tell him?” Root asked when Sameen flopped on the couch, exhausted from the exchange.

“Yes and he’s going to tell Shadow,” Shaw said, leaning over to kiss Michael. “Not you, too?” she asked, when her daughter gave her a stern look. “You’ll like what we came up with, okay? I promise. And you can help us match them to their new mommies and daddies, okay?”

Michael liked that idea.

“Those were very good ideas,” Root said, kissing Sameen to console her.

“It’s the only kind I have,” Shaw said back because cocky looked good on her.

* * *

The group of friend’s arrived on time and the chatter was loud in the entry way as they all talked about what this was about. Root thanked them for the guest gifts of wine and flowers. Reese brought scotch and Iris brought candy. Expensive chocolate candy.

“She’s too good for you,” Shaw lied to Fusco as she opened the box and shoved a piece in her mouth.

“Yeah? Well, let’s see if you sell her on this idea, Shaw; because I’m not doing it alone,” he warned her.

“I’m not selling anything!” Shaw protested before the third piece went into her mouth. “You’re lucky you’re being considered!”

Bear definitely liked the sound of that.

“Oh my gawd! Is this about getting a puppy?” Ayala squealed with delight when she and Martine arrived.

“We’re screening people to see if they’ll talk them to death though,” Shaw cautioned her sister.

“Shaw,” Martine greeted her friend.

“You’re a shoe-in,” Shaw whispered to her friend who was one of the most stable people she knew. A long smile came across Martine’s face.

Azar was there as well and was fussing over her granddaughter. As usual, the woman was armed with a large shopping bag of outfits and toys.

“You’re spoiling her,” Root said, but loved how attentive the woman was.

“That’s my job,” Azar affirmed.

“You finally over the meal I made you?” Joss asked Sameen because she knew her well.

“No, it was… really good,” Shaw said haltingly. Even Reese shook his head at how pathetic a performance it was.

“You’re a terrible liar, Shaw,” Joss laughed. Sameen shot her boyfriend a warning look, but John just smiled innocently.

Gen arrived with Harold and Grace. “Is this about the puppies? When can we see them? Can we hold one?” Gen asked all excited.

“Yes, yes, no, but first we eat,” Shaw said.

The last to arrive were Zoe and Janine. They had been otherwise entangled in each other as soon as they went home to change. Zoe was taken with Janine’s flexing of muscles she didn’t have; Janine was enamored with everything about Zoe.

“In there,” Shaw said to Zoe after accepting the bottle of aged scotch, but she halted her assistant. “Busy after work?” Shaw asked cryptically.

“What?” Janine asked, her eyes still glazed over from the intense love making that barely made it to the couch when they got home.

“Your dress? It’s on backwards,” Shaw pointed out, crossing her arms.

“No it’s not,” Janine protested and then realized the v neck cut that was in the back, was now in the front. “Oh,” she shrugged and blushed. Sameen shot her a knowing look. “Shaw, I need to talk to you later,” her assistant said as she twisted her dress around and straightened it out.

“Okay,” Sameen agreed.

Isabelle was busy bringing in the food and serving everyone in the dining area. Shaw bit into a big piece of steak and growled to make Michael laugh.

‘ _She desperately wants to be one of us_ ,” Bear sighed to the new mother.

Fusco pretended that Shaw bit his hand when he reached in front of her and everyone laughed at the friends’ antics.

“Come on, Shaw; the Yankee game is on later,” Reese complained, just because he knew rushing Shaw would irk her.

“Fine, fine,” Shaw said and they made their way through desserts.

* * *

There were a row of chairs set up in the living room and when she was finally finished with the homemade cheese cake that Zoe had made the day before.

“You… made this?” Shaw asked surprised.

“Yeah, it’s my grandmother’s recipe. I never made one before,” Zoe confessed, suddenly wanting to be more domestic.

“When… did you have time to whip this up?” Shaw wondered out loud.

Not one to miss a quip, Zoe leaned over and confessed: “Oh, Shaw; I’m _totally_ whipped all the time.”

“Not what I meant and you know it!” Shaw yelled after her friend.

* * *

Everyone took their places inside; and Root sat on the couch with Michael and Azar. Sameen came in and started the meeting. Isabelle started to walk back into the kitchen when Sameen yelled to her.

“We need you in here,” she explained to the chef who had no idea what her boss was up to.

“Root and I have decided…,” Shaw started and there was a loud bark from Bear and a scream from Michael that interrupted her. She stopped and took a deep breath. “All of us…,” she said and looked at the canine and baby who seemed okay with her revised phrasing, “…have decided that you guys might make good parents to the puppies. Now, under your chairs, you’ll find a blue surgical gown and mask which you will put on before you go to the nursery.”

“You have a puppy nursery?” Fusco asked.

“Well, it was our fantasy room,” Root explained and Sameen closed her eyes and dropped her head.

“I gotta see this room,” Zoe blurted out.

“We … it’s … all now…,” Shaw stumbled over her words.

“It’s a nursery now,” Root smiled, loving how her confident wife could get tripped up by such an admission.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, trying to take a deep enough breath to continue. “So, the parents are in charge in there. You can go in, but you can’t touch any of them. They’re really small and adorable, but Shadow will let you know if you can touch them.”

“So, you want us to see which one we want?” Ayala asked innocently because that’s how most people approach this.

“Have you been paying attention to anything I said?” her old sibling chastised her.

“Azizam,” Azar whispered to her daughter to be patient.

Shaw rolled her eyes and started over. “ _We_ …,” she said circling her wife, daughter and new parents, “… are trying to determine if _you_ …,” she said pointing to her friends, “… are worthy of a puppy.”

“Ohhh,” several of her friends said now that they unequivocally understood.

“Are we getting a puppy?” Zoe asked, because it just dawned on her that she was being included. Janine turned with her own set of puppy-dog eyes to look at her.

“Do you think we’re ready?” she asked her lover.

One look at that woman’s expression and the Fixer was pretty much ready for anything. “Yes, yes we are,” she affirmed.

Shaw rolled her eyes and shook her head at how long it was taking everyone to get on board.

“Okay, two at a time; follow them into the nursery,” Shaw instructed and Fusco and Iris were the first to go up.

Going along with Sameen’s instructions, everyone else got ready for their turn. Even the calmest of the group; Reese, seemed anxious.

“Are you… worried you won’t be picked? For real?” Joss asked him when she noticed he seemed worried.

“No,” he dismissed her suggestion. “No, but, you know, it would be nice to … have one. Hurry up, we’re next.”

Shaw shook her head at their slowpoke friends. “I’m never going to get through all this paperwork with them if they don’t keep up,” she said to her wife.

“I love it when you’re in charge,” Root said, her shoulder moving; her whole face smiling.


	119. Bearing it All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In honor of Graubaer's Boker (RIP) - who played Bear on POI - a Bear-centric chapter ... Sort of.

By the time the rotation was over and they each had a turn, every friend was totally smitten with the adorable puppies. “Oh, my God, they’re so cute!” echoed more than one person.

“Okay, Fusco, take a seat,” Shaw said because he kept saying it.  “This…,” Shaw said, picking up the thick stack of papers and showing them, “… is the process for making sure you’re fit.”

“If this is anything like the babysitting training, those dogs will be fully grown,” Zoe said to Janine.

“The tiny one is so cute!” gushed Ayala.

“ _Trouble_ is spoken for,” Shaw informed her sister.

“We’ll be happy with whoever chooses us,” Ayala said, earing mega sibling points.

“See? _That’s_ what I’m talking about,” Shaw said, impressed. “Now, let’s go over the rules,” she started and Root beamed at how protective her wife was about the pups.

“Rule number one: No _stupid_ names,” Shaw read from the list and Bear barked loudly because this was especially important to him.

“I want to call him _Pumpkin_!” Carter said just to bust her friend.

“That will never make it past the naming committee,” Shaw informed the detective.

“Stop!” Reese whispered like a kid who was afraid of getting disqualified.

“Are you for real?” Joss said, but he pulled at her hand, confirming that – indeed he was. “I don’t believe this.”

“Rule two – under no circumstances can you dress them in outfits,” Shaw said and grimaced. “Seriously, like… not even for Halloween.”

Bear shot a serious look at Root because his Dracula costume had won him first prize. “We’ll … deal with that later,” Root whispered because she was almost certain that would put her wife over the edge.

“There will be mandatory training,” Shaw listed next.

“For the puppies?” Zoe asked and Shaw looked at her.

“Not for the puppies,” the astute assistant deduced.

“What about leaving them all day?” Fusco worried out loud.

“Oh, that’s the best part!” Root said because she thought Shaw’s idea was brilliant.

“Glad you brought that up, Fusco,” Shaw said and Zoe whispered – “ _Wait for it_ ,” because she could see where this was going. “We’re opening a puppy daycare at Bear.”

“OH MY GOD! I LOVE IT!” Janine yelled.

“Every day?” Fusco asked.

“Yes, this way Bear and Shadow don’t miss them so much,” Shaw said.

Bear barked his approval and Michael yelled her affirmation.

“How’d you swing that?” Fusco asked as if it needed to be asked.

“I own the company now, Fusco,” Shaw reminded him because they hadn’t gotten around to retracting that ridiculous idea.

“Could I get a parking space then?” Fusco asked.

“Done,” Shaw replied.

“So, now what?” Ayala asked.

“Now, you go home and wait. We’ll let you know the results soon,” Shaw said and waved for them to get up … and get going.

“This is some kind of crazy; even for you, Shaw,” Carter had to share.

Sameen looked at Carter; wishing she could explain that she had to answer to a higher authority who thought he was human. Instead, she just smiled and reminded her that if she needed help… “Just remember, Carter; think to yourself – Would Shaw want to call a dog with that name?”

Carter was about to make another crack when her boyfriend pulled her hand to leave. “Good advice, Shaw,” he said, not wanting to lessen his chances. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

Janine had every intention of talking to Sameen that night, but the experience of picking out puppies was making her want to take Zoe home and do things to her. It was pretty much like every other experience they had together.  
“Tomorrow, Shaw,” she said, pulling Zoe onto the elevator.

Everyone thanked their hostesses for dinner and left.

* * *

“So, how’d I do?” Shaw was asking Root when everyone else in the room rushed to give their opinion first.

Bear barked that it went well; Michael yelled that she was happy, but needed to be changed.

“I think you were brilliant,” Root summed up and kissed her wife as she went to change the baby.

Isabelle was on her way out and wished Sameen and Root a good evening.

“Hey, listen; we want you to take _Trouble_ , okay?” Shaw asked. “She’s going to need extra…,” she said and stopped.

“I would be honored,” Isabelle rushed to say, understanding that what the littlest one needed. “God! How I love my job,” Isabelle yelled out as she rode down on the elevator.

* * *

When Root returned, Bear started asking all kinds of questions about the daycare center. Who would be in charge? Would they take the puppies for walks? Would there be toys? What about fire drills?

“What is up with you?” Shaw asked.

“He’s never been a father before,” she whispered as the canine paced back and forth, whining his worries.

“I swear if he asks about a college plan…,” Shaw was kidding when Root assured her he was well taken care of.

Shaw looked at the frantic dog and remembered her own reaction to being a new parent. “Come here, you,” she said and patted the couch next to her.

Bear was too busy listing his concerns as he walked all around. Shaw told him to stop and come over. He looked at her; then at Root, who assured him it would help. Reluctantly, he jumped up on the couch and put his head in Sameen’s lap.  
“Look, we know it’s scary; we didn’t know what to expect either,” Shaw began her sympathetic talk. Bear was having trouble calming down and interrupted her. “Okay, yes; I know you have more than we do, okay? You won’t let me forget it. But you’re going to have a lot of help. You may not remember this, but people find puppies irresistible. Another long string of protests interrupted her. Shaw rolled her eyes and grabbed him gently around the neck. “I didn’t mean you’re not adorable when you get older, Bear. You’re still freaking adorable,” she assured him and he let out a low moan as he started to relax. Shaw turned to Root and mouthed – ‘ _Touchy_!’

“Sameen has it all figured out,” Root assured Bear. “The puppies will be well taken care of and you and Shadow will see them every day.”

He just had moved his head to a more comfortable position when he thought of something else and shot up.

“We’re paying for puppy school,” Root said and patted Sameen’s lap to return his head down.

Shadow was listening to all of this and moved over to Root’s side on the couch. She was too exhausted from nursing to have any worries other than their well being. She barked to Bear that she trusted that Shaw and Root had thought of everything.  
Bear looked at his wife and then up at his favorite pets. ‘ _We’re okay with all of this,_ ’ he barked, confirming they were ….. _after_ Shadow told him they were.

“And they say you can’t teach an _old_ dog new tricks,” Shaw commented and the howling started all over. “Geez, you’re not old, okay? Oh my God, you’re so ….,” and she was going to say sensitive, but Root stopped her.

The dog took great comfort in the fact that his favorite people didn’t seem to know how to manage things and they were doing just fine with their offspring. In fact, when he thought about it; Michael was one of his favorite people. Maybe Shaw was right; he and Shadow would do just fine.

All that thinking exhausted him and he fell asleep with his head on Shaw’s lap; while Shadow fell asleep on Root’s.

“Now, what do we do?” Shaw asked.

Root looked over at Michael asleep in her seat. “The puppies will be up soon; let them rest,” Root suggested.

And so they did.

* * *

It lasted all of twenty minutes, when the whimpering of the litter erupted and Shadow pulled herself to go to them. “Let’s go, “ she said to Bear because she believed in helping out.

Root gently picked up Michael and everyone when upstairs. While Root put Michael to sleep in her crib; Shaw went inside the puppy nursery and sat on the floor with Bear.

“See that one?” Shaw pointed to one of the bigger pups. “I think Reese would be good for him.”

Bear barked his affirmation because he was there all the times John had complained that Root was spoiling a perfectly good dog.

“We have time, but we should name them,” Shaw whispered as the puppies nursed. Bear barked his thoughts. “What do you mean; you’ll have them by morning?” Shaw asked, too tired to figure the confusing canine out.

Shaw helped Bear and Shadow cuddle the puppies and both were impressed with how gentle and caring the usual gruff human was. Right then and there, Bear promised not to call Shaw any names behind her back anymore.

* * *

Sameen was exhausted by the time she returned to her bedroom. “I smell like puppy spit,” she said, but Root assured her she’d help her undress and did so before Sameen could form a full thought.

“Do you know why I love you?” Root said as her wife collapsed in bed.

“So _many_ reasons,” Shaw said confidently.

“Yes, but do you know why tonight?” Root asked.

“Because I let you strip me naked without putting up a fight?” Shaw asked, her heavy eyes closing.

“You never put up a fight,” Root reminded her. “Because, Mrs. Shaw-Groves; you want what’s best for each of those puppies and it’s sweet.”

Sameen tried to scoff It off. “I just don’t want Wonder Dog being a pain in my ass,” she lied.

Root’s hands were too busy touching the naked skin next to her. “I’m so lucky you’re mine,” she whispered.

Sameen didn’t detect the tone and thought she’d tease Root by asking her what made her think she was all hers? But Root wasn’t kidding.

“What?” Shaw asked, when Root jumped up and straddled her legs; grabbing her forearms and looking down at Shaw.

“Don’t tease me, Shaw,” Root implored.

“Jesus, Root! Why do you get like this when I’m kind to puppies?” Shaw asked, confused by the reaction.

“Do you know that I never thought I would ever find someone like you?” Root asked and it wasn’t an unfamiliar question.

“Well, yeah, me neither,” Shaw agreed.

“Sometimes, Shaw; sometimes I’m afraid life will screw this up for us; that something will happen,” Root said, giving into an old deep seeded fear.

Sameen was getting better at recognizing it. “Come here,” she said, pulling her wife down and holding her in her arms. “Nothing will come between us, Root. You know I will fight whatever comes our way and that you and I together, are a pretty badass force to be reckoned with.”

It wasn’t just the spoken promise; it was the feeling of being held in those incredibly strong arms as she could feel the tones muscles beneath her. Shaw’s body was one of the safest places Root knew.

Root lay there with her head to the side; almost as surprised as Sameen that the fear poked its head just now. She stopped thinking and allowed the sensation of Sameen’s hold on her sink in. She knew in her heart – Shaw was hers – and she was Shaw’s.

“Together we are a badass force,” she repeated softly.

“Yes,” Shaw said, stroking Root’s head and feeling her relax.

There was silence for a long time until Sameen felt the vibration of Root starting to hum. First, it just sounded familiar; but then Root started to murmur words;

“Like a comet …,” Root sang and hummed the rest.

“What?” Shaw asked.

“As it passes the sun,” Root spoke more than sang.

“What are you talking about, Root?” Shaw asked, confused.

“Like a stream that meets a bolder,” Root said, her hand still on Shaw’s chest.

“Are you… singing?” Shaw asked surprised.

“Halfway through the woods,” Root continued.

“Is this one of those nerd puzzles? Are you giving me clues?” Shaw tried.

Root _LOVED_ that Sameen was clueless about what she was doing and that her Persian firecracker was started to lose her patience. She sat up and held onto Sameen’s arms tightly and started to belt out:  
“Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you…,” Root sang out loud.

“You _know_ me; you don’t _knew_ me, Root,” Shaw corrected her.

“I have been changed for good…,” Root finished the stanza.

She loved the totally confused frown on Sameen’s face as she stared up, trying to solve the conundrum. Finally, it clicked.

“You’re… singing songs… from… _Wicked_?” Shaw asked, totally unaware of the connection. “Why?”

“Because you’ve changed me, Shaw; and I’ve changed you,” Root said, laughing at how funny it was that Shaw was still staring with a blank expression.

“Yeah, but… songs?” Shaw asked.

“I’m your bow; you’re my arrow,” Root said, using more familiar terms to express her thoughts.

“Now, _that_ I get,” Shaw finally smiled. “Stop with the musical numbers, Root.”

“You don’t like _Wicked_?” Root laughed, trying to hold Sameen down on purpose – just because she knew she’d fight back.

“You want _wicked_?” Shaw said, following the path Root was deliberately placing her on. “I’ll show you _wicked_ ,” she said on cue; easily tossing her wife over and trading places with her.

“Be wicked, Shaw,” laughed Root as Shaw easily subdued her … wickedly.

As easily as Root enticed Sameen to do what she wanted; Shaw got Root to respond exactly as she had planned.

It would seem - _some_ things _never_ change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it sounds like it's getting closer to the end, you might be right. Anything I need to cover besides naming the puppies? What does Janine want to talk to Shaw about? Hmmm....


	120. This is How it's Going to Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better to ask forgiveness than permission, I say. I took some of the dog's names from the readers. If anyone objects, please let me know.

The next morning, Sameen awoke to loud barking in the room across the hallway from their bedroom.

“What is he doing? Does he have a death wish?” she grumbled because it was before the crack of dawn.

“Leave him,” Root tried to soothe her wife. “He’s talking to the Machine.”

Of all the things that Root could have said he was doing; talking to the Machine was not one that gave Sameen comfort. She tried to dismiss it and fall back to sleep, but then she remembered the dog had played one too many tricks on her. Her paranoia grew. She put the pillow over her head, but the barking was relentless.

“I’m going to see..,” she said to a sleepy Root who trusted the dog was not planning anything destructive.

* * *

Sameen jumped up and went outside, but as she drew closer to the room, she heard something besides the barking. She heard a very distinct yell. She swung open the door and there, in front of the desk that housed Root’s computer screen, sat Bear… and Michael.

“What? How the…,” Shaw said, twisting her head to look back at her bedroom where she swore Michael was in the crib. “But how?” she asked, and Bear shot her a look. “You… took her out of the crib?”

Michael squealed because it was the best experience of her short life. She babbled that all she had to do was roll over when Bear released the side of the crib.

“But you… you can’t…,” Shaw was blathering when Bear shook his head. He walked over to Michael and prostrated himself so that Michael could pull on his neck and get her leg over him. Then, very gingerly, he crawled across the room.

‘See?’ he barked at a stunned Sameen.

Michael yelled that they needed to get back to business. She smiled up at her mother and patted the floor next to her.

“Yeah, okay,” Shaw said and sat down as she was instructed. “What… are we doing?” she asked, feeling like Alice who fell through the Rabbit Hole.

Now that Shaw was quiet, the mastermind and his sidekick went back to work. He would bark, Michael would yell and make a face and the Machine would interpret. Shaw watched a name appear on the screen after Bear conveyed it. Then, if Michael yelled, the name was either crossed out or they went to the next line. Sameen listened to this back and forth until the printer started to make noise on its own.

Bear went over and took the sheet with his teeth and walked back to Shaw; dropping it in her lap. She stared at him, and then looked down at the paper.

“ _Names approved by Bear, Shadow and Michael_ ,” she read and looked up. Michael was beaming to have been the only two footed person to be asked. Bear barked at Sameen to keep going. “Okay, okay; it’s before coffee you know,” she barked back. Michael put her hand out on her mother’s arm and stroked it. “Thank you,” Shaw said, grateful her daughter understood that caffeine deprivation could make you cranky. She looked down at the list and closed her eyes when she came to the name she truly didn’t like. “Princess?” she said to Bear who barked his reply. “Yes, but I didn’t name her Princess, I gave her a real name,” she argued about naming her daughter.

Bear barked back and Michael yelled that she liked the name. “It sends the wrong message,” Shaw argued, but she was outnumbered and out voiced as the room erupted into baby screams and dog yelping. “She’s not a poodle!” Shaw argued of the dog that would possibly get the name.

Bear wasn’t having any of it.

Using every ounce of his animal instinct, he decided in _this_ trio, Shaw was the easy prey. He knew she was outnumbered and without coffee, easily outmaneuvered. So, he pounced on her; knocking her down and licking her face. The more Shaw screamed, the more Michael laughed and rolled over to lean on her, too.

“Dis..no,Buh, ohnutmahmuth,” Shaw cried as the dog kept it up.

The door opened and Root stood there, casting a stern look at Bear for doing what he did. Root’s expression informed the canine that she knew what he did on purpose and that it wasn’t fair. Two eyebrows and a furled forehead conveyed all of that in seconds.

‘Sorry,’ Bear barked, but that was mostly to get out of trouble with Root. He whined his defense and Michael seconded it.

“You three are making quite the team,” Root said, bending down to help Sameen up and then lifting up Michael.

“I didn’t help,” Shaw said, but Root explained she didn’t mean her. She looked over at the Machine.

“I think he spit in my mouth,” Shaw said and gagged.

“Let’s get you coffee,” Root said sympathetically.

“I need a tongue replacement!” Shaw balked. “I’ll never use this …,” but her wife stopped right in her tracks.

“We’ll get you mouthwash,” she promised and grabbed it before they headed downstairs.

Root could not stand even the thought of what Sameen was suggesting.

* * *

Isabelle made breakfast as Shaw gargled and swished right in the kitchen sink – several times – until every part of her mouth felt like it was on fire.

“I’ve kissed men that made me want to do that afterwards,” reflected the chef who hadn’t kissed a man since her marriage to her husband.

“Dated any dogs?” Shaw asked, going in for one more swish and spit.

“None that good,” she winked at Bear.

When Shaw discharged the last of the mouthwash, she came back to the table.

“Ohh, minty fresh,” Root teased and kissed the lips that were about to complain.

“Look at this,” Shaw said as her favorite chef piled on the comfort food.

Root diligently took the crumpled up piece of paper that Bear had given Shaw.

“PINCESS!” Shaw balked, but didn’t bother chewing. “IgottacalladugPINCESS?”

“I like this one,” Root said, pointing to one.

Sameen finally swallowed. “Sure; _Dakota_ is a badass name. That’s good,” Shaw agreed. “And _Harley_ is great. But Bella?”

“That has a nice ring to it,” Root said, but caught the look. “Who…?” she was asking when Shaw raised her eyebrow and looked at Bear and then Michael. “Did you help Bear pick these names?” Root cooed to the baby.

“Don’t encourage them, Root. If you do, one day we’ll wake up trapped in a Lego prison or something,” Shaw said out of the side of her mouth.

“There aren’t enough names…,” Root noted.

“No, because they want to see what the… _personalities_ …,” and she used air quotes, “… are.”

“Oh, that’s actually a good idea,” Root agreed.

“Again; with the encouraging,” Shaw cautioned her wife.

* * *

A little while later, the happy trio was making their way to work; all with a lot on their minds. Root was curious about when she would hear from Mara. Shaw was reading the newspaper that reported her favorite baseball player would be out for three weeks with an injured wrist. Michael wondered if her mother remembered to pack the cheerios.

Sameen rushed off the elevator after kissing her family goodbye. She was on a mission.

“Did you…?” she said to her assistant and snapped the newspaper in front of her face.

“Hurt him?” Janine said, pulling back to read the headline.

“Yes!” Shaw said and was about to lecture the woman that she went too far.

Instead of being defensive or horrified; Janine got an enamored look in her eyes. Shaw stared harder at her, trying to get her to erase that captivated look off her face.  
“You think… I could have done that?” Janine asked, clutching her chest that her boss and idol considered her that big a threat.

“What?” asked a confused and more aggravated Shaw.

“Oh, my God, Shaw,” Janine said, jumping up and hugging her boss for the compliment.

“We’re _not_ hugging,” Shaw said, but in fact, they were.

“Sure looks like a hug to me,” Fusco said because he’d been up half the night thinking about names and which puppy he wanted.

He was just about to come through the doorway, when Reese attempted to squeeze past him. Fusco lived by the rules and he was first, so he pushed back at Reese. Now, the two men were caught in the doorway. Muscle won out and Reese got in first.

“Here,” he said in a voice that no one recognized. “I thought you might like these,” he said, holding the bag up in front of Shaw, who simply looked at it suspiciously.

“What…?” she was asking when her tall friend said it was from the bakery down the street.

"Hey! That’s where I go,” Fusco complained.

Janine was counting on her fingers how many words Reese had just uttered at once. She was impressed.

“Thanks,” Shaw said, still staring up at the big guy.

“You have a good day,” Reese nodded to her and then smiled at everyone else before he left.

“Why your girlfriend doesn’t listen to me about getting a big net,” Shaw shook her head at the waste of a brilliant idea, as she walked into her office.

* * *

“Anyway, here,” Fusco said, and replaced Reese’s bag with his on Shaw’s desk.

“What do you _want_ , Fusco?” she asked, knowing he was up to something.

“Here,” he said, knowing it was better to discuss things when she was eating.

Just then, Janine popped her head in. “I really need to talk to you, Shaw. I needed to last night, but then I saw Zoe with that puppy…,” she relayed and got dreamy eyed.

“I bought the donuts; I go first,” said the master of the rules.

“As soon as you’re done, then,” Janine decided.

“You know I can’t stand _any_ of you, right?” Sameen asked even though everyone knew it wasn’t true.

“Eat,” he said and pushed a donut into her hands. “You and me go way back,” he started and Shaw moaned out loud and threw her head back in the chair. “We’re tight; certainly tighter than you and Reese,” he said, uncertain if he wished the big guy heard that or not.

“Whaduhyouwan?” Shaw asked.

The detective drew a deep breath. “I want… a girl!”

Shaw processed the short message. “I suggest you talk to your girlfriend, Fusco.”

“No! The puppies; I want a female,” he clarified.

“Look, I’m not…,” Shaw tried to explain.

“The one with the mark of her face,” he said specifically.

“They all have…,” Shaw tried to remember.

“Looks like a scar,” he said and sat back, totally smitten with the dog.

“Sure,” Shaw said, because that was the easy answer. “Even… if her name is…?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Fusco assured her and leaned over to touch her hand. “Just try to make it that one,” he asked the way friends as if you can please get them tickets to a show. He gave Shaw a big wink and was on his way.

“There isn’t enough Kool Aid in the world to explain these people,” Shaw said when her next uninvited guest arrive. “Don’t, please don’t,” Shaw begged, but her assistant sat down anyway.

“This is serious,” Janine said, leaning over and looking at Shaw. “Are you ready?”

“If I say no, will you go away?” Shaw asked, hoping for an out.

“No,” Janine said and raised her finger at Sameen. “I’m going…,” she started and needed to take a deep breath. “to…ask Zoe to marry me!”

That did make Sameen stop mid-bite. “WHA?” she asked, just to be sure.

“I know, I know,” Janine said and got up to pace. “But when we were looking at those puppies and she was so cute with them; so vulnerable and soft and…”

“Okay, okay,” Shaw said wanting the short version. “But this is a big step.”

“Yes, I know!” Janine said and sat back down and took Shaw’s hands, even though she tried to pull away. “That’s why I need you with me.”

“When you propose?” Shaw asked aghast.

“No, I mean, I don’t think so,” the exuberant woman gave pause to think about that. “For now, I just want you to help me think of the perfect setting and way to do it.”

“Some place far away,” Shaw uttered and if Root was there, she would have given her a look. “I mean, if you’re sure. Yeah, I’ll help you.”

“Thanks, Shaw!” Janine and pulled her boss right out of her seat.

“Oh, geez,” Shaw said, because she had just eaten two large donuts on top of a big breakfast.

“We’ll start at lunch, picking out the perfect place,” Janine said and ran out.

Shaw collapsed in her chair, rolling her eyes. “Just another day at the nut-farm.”


	121. Practice Makes Perfect

Janine thought she could employ the rule that Reese and Fusco understood to be the first _Law of Shaw;_ tell her anything important - when she’s eating. If she were going to ask her friend to stand in and help her practice, she figured she better do it over lunch. The problem was, Shaw getting a full meal wasn’t her first priority.

Poor Janine.

Dragging her boss down the block to the little restaurant where she and Zoe first went to dinner; Janine kept Shaw waiting as she scanned the room for the same table. “I think it was this one,” she said to the Maitre’D, pulling Sameen to sit down. “No, not this one,” she said, pulling Sameen up by her hand.

“If I kill her, will you please not call 911 until I’ve had a head start?” Shaw asked the man who smiled.

“Here it is,” Janine decided and tugged Shaw with more force than Sameen _ever_ remembered the woman having.

“What are you eating? Wheaties?” Sameen inquired.

“It has to be perfect,” Janine announced and explained to the waiter what she wanted to order for lunch.

“There better be food…,” Shaw warned unnecessarily.

“Of course,” her aid who was seeking her assistance stated. “Now, this is the table we dined at on our first date. I figure, I’ll let her eat dinner…,” she said and suddenly there was a tray of desserts at their table. “Put them in front of her,” she instructed.

Shaw pulled back in her chair as the waiter did as he was told. Several small plates adorned with various cake desserts were put down; then, several glasses filled with confections. She looked at the waiter who didn’t seem a bit surprised by the amount of food.

“Start,” Janine said and folded her arms on the table; her head resting on her hands as she waited.

“You… want me to eat _all_ of this?” asked the woman who could easily devour the food.

“Pick out any one to start,” Janine said, waving her hand to begin.

Shaw rolled her eyes; shook her head and took the apple pie with whip cream to start. “Yuknow,” she said, her mouth full of soft apple and crust; “… I usually like to have lunch before dessert. I’ll need a …. HOLY CRAP!” she yelled when she bit down on something hard. “WHAT THE F…?” she said, sticking her fingers in her mouth and extracting … a ring. “Are you insane? I could have choked…,” Sameen was pointing out.

“No, no,” Janine said definitely. “It’s not real and Pierre here is professionally trained in the Heimlich maneuver.”

“Good to know,” Shaw said sarcastically. “You want me to eat these and find the ring?” she asked aghast.

“Yes,” Janine said as if it should be quite evident. “That was too fast; try another,” she said, sliding a glass of sherbet in front of her.

“You know Root will be pissed if you kill me, right?” Shaw asked, just to be certain.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Janine said and gently pushed the glass closer.

“I don’t even like…,” Shaw said, taking a huge spoonful of the sweet icy confection. “Disizgud,” she said, distracted by the unusual flavor.

“Coconut pineapple,” the waiter said, happy she was enjoying it.

“Gud,” Shaw said, taking two more scoops and finding nothing. She went in for the next scoop and stopped swallowing; slowly maneuvering the object in her mouth and showing it between her teeth. “Bingo!”

“I don’t know,” Janine said, disappointed in the display. “Can we try the drinks?”

The waiter nodded and waved for the bartender to prepare the drinks.

“How about this?” Shaw said, taking a mouthful of cheesecake. “Mmm,” she said, shoveling in the next pieces.

The desserts were being replaced by several glasses of various liquors. “Try this,” Janine said and since Shaw was thirsty from the sugary desserts, she gulped it down.

“Sherioushly?” she said when she drained the champagne flute and caught the next ring in her teeth.

“You’re right; she’ll know something is up if it’s in champagne,” Janine said, replacing the glass with a stout glass of scotch. “Bottoms up.”

“Don’t… no one says that,” Shaw complained and downed the expensive scotch. Now, she was making a show out of how easy it was to catch the rings in the liquor. “Oh, God,” she fake coughed; “…am I dying or getting proposed to?”

“Shaw!” Janine said sternly.

“This is not only dangerous; it’s stupid,” Sameen said harshly.

“And… how did you propose to Root?” Janine asked, with a smirk on her face because she knew the details.

“Well, sure… there was glass, and guns, and an explosion or two, but it wasn’t how I planned it,” Shaw pointed out.

That statement actually made a lot of sense to the woman who desperately wanted this to be perfect. “Not how you planned it,” she repeated.

“No, I was going for something more traditional,” Shaw said, unconvincingly.

“Right!” Janine said, pulling her boss from her seat. “Thanks, Pierre,” she said, to the waiter who had patiently arranged everything for her.

* * *

“Where? Wait!” Shaw said, but she was outside before she knew it. “You know, I’m armed, right? I mean… I CARRY A GUN!” That announcement did little to the assistant, but did catch the attention to passersby’s. “Legally,” Sameen said, putting her hands up. “Never mind,” she said, as Janine pulled her to walk.

“Okay, let’s stroll naturally,” Janine said, letting go of her boss.

“There is nothing _natural_ about that word,” Shaw announced of her woman’s vocabulary. “I’d like to point out that you promised me lunch…”

“Here!” Janine shouted and ran a few steps ahead.

Sameen looked up and realized they were in front of Tiffany’s; the iconic jewelry store on Fifth Avenue. “I’m not helping you pick out the ring!” she announced to no one. “Do you even have...?” she was asking, when Janine turned to face her.

Then, much to the delight of the tourist and lunch goers around them, Janine knelt down on one knee and proposed. “Will you marry me?” she said, taking Shaw’s hand and then trying to see how that felt.

“Are you crazy?” Shaw said, pulling her hand back.

“Now, that’s just _cold_!” a woman chastised her and shook her head.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” a man scolded the woman who could snap him in two. “You should be more sensitive.”

“Pick someone who appreciates you!” shouted a woman from the crowd.

“She’s not good enough for you!” yelled someone who felt sorry for the rejected woman.

Shaw crossed her arms and looked down at the woman who hadn’t quite thought this through.

“Oh, no; she’s not my girlfriend,” Janine tried to explain as she rose to her feet. “She’s my boss; and she’s really nice,” she tried.

“Was her boss making her kneel?” the miscommunication started. “That’s against the law!”

“No, she wasn’t; I was using her to …,” Janine tried, but the crowd was running with it.

“That’s right; you use her! She probably has used you plenty!” a stranger yelled.

“Can we go now?” Shaw asked, pulling the woman who thought she could explain to the agitated crowd.

“But…,” Janine tried, only to feel her feet moving quickly.

When Shaw felt they were away from anyone who noticed, she stopped and faced her friend. “Look, I think you may want to do this _indoors_ ,” she suggested.

“Yes, that last try hurt my knee,” Janine said, bending to rub it.

Shaw sighed and rolled her eyes. “Let me see,” she said, getting down on her knees and looked at the injured woman’s scraped knee. She lifted the assistant’s dress up above her knee to see. Janine might have been proposing to Zoe; but Shaw’s touch still had an effect.

“Oh, so _now_ … she’s sorry!” said an onlooker who had seen them outside Tiffany’s.

Shaw looked up; her mouth pursed, but realized it was of no use. “Yes, I am; and she’s forgiven me, okay? So, can you go on with your own life now?”

Just the thought that someone in the entire universe might believe her and Shaw were a couple; made her weak. She might be planning on proposing to Zoe Morgan; but Shaw would always hold a special place in her heart.

“Geez, people,” Shaw said, standing up and announcing that it was a scrap and needed to be disinfected.

And then… Janine cried.

Shaw’s head spun around; in part looking for Root who would tell her what to do. But, she’d take anyone’s advice right now because she was clueless.

“It will only sting for a minute,” she assured her friend. “Okay, more than a minute…actually, it will hurt like hell,” she continued, but the crying got louder. Shaw looked around and sure enough, the bawling was gathering some attention.  
Shaw looked skyward and asked: “Now, what do I do?”

The answer was immediate and came in the form of a text on her phone.

‘ _Bring her back to the office where we can talk this through_ ,’ said Root’s text.

“YES!” Shaw blurted out and took Janine by the hand. “It’s going to be okay,” Shaw said.

“No; no it’s not! I want it to be perfect and I have no idea how to do it!” Janine wailed.

“Yes, so far your attempts have included choking to death and mob madness,” Shaw agreed, and Janine’s cries turned to high pitched sobs. “But…,” her boss said, putting her arm around her shoulder and making the woman walk, “… we’re going to make it all better!”

“Really?” Janine stopped crying long enough to ask. “How?”

“I have no idea, but Root does,” Shaw said, and pulled her assistant to come with her.

* * *

Just the thought that the women she admired so much were going to help her; relieved the woman – who went from drying her tears to apologizing to talking nonstop.

“You must think I’m terrible,” Janine said apologetically.

“ _Crazy_ … isn’t _terrible_ ,” Shaw explained her adjectives.

“I really appreciate you and Root helping me,” Janine said as they made their way to Root’s office.

“Well, technically; I’ve done all the work so far,” Shaw pointed out, but was anxious to see what Root would come up with.

The only reason Root was aware of her wife’s abduction was because the Machine asked the CEO if she wanted her to erase all copies of a video of Janine proposing to Shaw outside of Tiffany’s.

“Yes, please do,” Root agreed and couldn’t wait to hear that story.

In no time; videos were scrambled on YouTube; Twitter; IG; Facebook and every phone within a ten block radius; including those housed in desks in offices near the store.

The Machine was nothing, if not, thorough.

But coming up with the perfect setting for Janine’s proposal needed a special touch; one that only a fellow romantic could come up with.

Shaw’s interpretation was that Root would take Janine off her hands now; so she could get a proper lunch. Root, of course, had thought of that.

“Here she is,” Shaw said and gently pushed her assistant through the doorway. “I’ll be…,” she tried, but Root was already tugging at her.

“I have lunch,” she said, and stood back so Sameen could see the Parks Deli sandwich on the table.

The only other time you would see an example of such hesitation is in nature documentaries when animals hesitate to take the food out of fear of being trapped. Shaw looked at Root, then at the food, and then back at Root.

“Just the way you like it, too,” Root said and Shaw surrendered.

“Talk her out of doing anything that will get Morgan killed, okay?” Shaw requested.

“Well, I’ll do my best,” Root smiled and joined both women at the table. Root smiled at Janine when Shaw ripped open the paper enclosure and tore at the sandwich. “I’m starving!” she said as if they couldn’t have guessed.

“Shaw was great!” Janine said and looked guiltily at her boss taking huge bites of the delicious.

“I bet she was,” Root smiled with her whole face as her hand reached under the table to squeeze Shaw’s leg. “She’s the best.”

“Did she tell you?” Janine thought she should clarify.

“In a way,” Root said and waited for the woman to continue.

“Okay, so I’ve been thinking about this whole thing, right? But then when I saw Zoe with the puppies, I just knew- this is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with!” Janine said excitedly.

“Okay, then; we need to plan the perfect setting for you to do that!” Root agreed, because she loved the whole idea.

“No choking,” Shaw said as she almost choked on her food.

“That idea didn’t work so well,” Janine confessed.

“Perhaps in public isn’t the way to go?” Root asked, but was gently suggesting. “She’s a private woman.”

“Oh, that’s a good point!” Janine said, sitting back and thinking about that nugget of truth. She watched as Root slid the soda cup with the straw in it over so her wife would take it.

“Nuhkneelinuhndurtysidewakseitha,” Shaw commanded and it took Janine a second to get that.

“Right,” she agreed.

“Where does Zoe like to go on vacation? Perhaps you could take her there and propose?” Root suggested.

“She likes this place upstate. We went there,” Janine remembered. “But I’d like to do it soon.”

“Strike while the iron is hot!” Root smiled.

“I never understood that expression,” Shaw shared.

“Why don’t you give us some time to think about this and we’ll reconvene before you leave today?” Root asked.

“Wha?” Shaw said, not wanting to come back to this topic ever.

“Really? Oh, thanks, Root. Thanks, Shaw,” Janine said, because she was exhausting herself with trying to figure out what to do.

With that, she hugged her boss who continued to eat, and then hugged Root, before she left.

* * *

“Why did you do that?” Shaw asked, before slurping down the rest of her soda. “Now, we have to figure it out?”

“No, Silly,” Root said, because she saw the big picture. “We just gave her the space she needed to think it through. Janine is more than capable of figuring it out.”

“Yeah, well let’s hope her next try does not include killing her fiancée,” Shaw said.

“We just need to help her find the perfect setting,” Root said, tapping her chin.

Root didn’t mean to direct that question at the Machine; but given that the AI was always interested in helping Root, she took it upon herself to analyze what would be the ideal location. Analyzing the situation in a less romantic, more bottom line way; the Machine deduced what conditions prompted a person to propose. Then, she analyzed what was important to Janine by tallying up her vocabulary and noting the words she used the most.

At the end of her silent analysis; the Machine concluded fear of death made people act instantaneously. And Janine’s most used word was … _Shaw_.

Now, all she had to do was get the three of them in a dangerous situation.

But not too dangerous; as her prime objective was always to protect Shaw.

The Machine had her work cut out for her.


	122. Well Intentioned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Promise to make this more Shoot centered before ending.

Root was standing there, still caught up in the _reverie_ of her wife’s kiss goodbye. “We just need to give Janine time…,” she said to no one. Except, someone was listening.

“ _Research has shown_ …,” began the Machine through the computer speaker; “… t _hat danger strips away hesitation in a fight or flight scenario_.”

“I don’t think she’s fighting or fleeing from this,” Root answered, not fazed that the AI was listening to the prior conversation.

“I am helping Shaw,” the Machine announced proudly; and her sole purpose was to impress Root.

“How?” Root asked, not yet aware how the entity was taking things into her own… well, circuit boards.

“Listen,” the Machine said, because she had analyzed that humans like the element of surprise with… surprises.

* * *

Minutes before, Shaw had met up with her assistant as she waited at the elevator. She assured her that Root knew what she was doing.

“I wish this would just come to me,” Janine admitted.

The elevator door opened; and a slightly surprised Zoe Morgan looked up. “Oh! I was just looking for you,” she said, having been on the floor below them seconds before. “Someone said you were up here. Hey, Shaw. How’s the puppy farm?”

“Zoe!” Janine said and several of her systems started to reeve up. The sight of the woman made her blood pressure rise; her heart beat faster. The woman’s deep sultry voice made hormone levels surge and her light eyes dilated. And that wasn’t even counting the fact that she was about to enter a small enclosure with her two favorite women.

The change was so evident, that Shaw asked if she should wait for the next elevator.

They assured her it wasn’t necessary.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, getting in and pressing her floor and suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in on her.

It should have been a short decent to the next floor, but the Machine was now in charge of the elevator, and it was going to be anything but a smooth ride.

* * *

“Listen for what?” Root asked quizzically.

Then, she heard it. It was muffled at first; but it was the distinct sound of the elevator alarm.

* * *

The three women suddenly felt the floor falling beneath them. Shaw grabbed the railing on the wall as they were jerked around. Janine fell into Zoe and felt the woman’s arms go around her. “I’ve got you,” Zoe managed to say.

The carriage came to a sudden stop, at what seemed like at least … several floors lower.

“GEZZUS!” Shaw yelled, hitting buttons and trying to get someone on the intercom.

“We’re okay,” Zoe said in a voice that managed to calm Janine. The younger woman leaned back and stared deeply into the woman’s eyes. It was as if she could see her whole future reflecting in those pools of reassurance.

As Shaw tried to get someone to tell them what was going on; the Machine was ready for Phase 2.

In what seemed like an impossible feat, noise of what sounded like the loud screeching of cables snapping filled the inside enclosure and the carriage fell again. This time, Janine went flying backwards into Shaw.

In that moment, Janine decided _two_ things; they were going to die… and she was going to propose.  She truly hoped not in that order.

“I’m doing it _now_ , Shaw,” Janine announced loudly.

Sameen’s mind was on figuring out the best course of action to save them, so it took a second to process what her friend was saying. Shaw looked down at her phone.

‘ _There is no real danger_ ,’ the text from the Machine said.

“What do you mean; no real danger? We’re flying around in here like monkeys,” Shaw bellowed at the camera.

And then the message read four words that scared Sameen more than the fall did. ‘ _I am in control_.’

It might have eased Sameen’s mind if the Machine completed that thought and told her she meant she was in control of the machinery. Shaw was worried the entity had just taken over the building. Or worse.

“You better not do anything or I will rip your mother board right out of your hardware!” Shaw yelled.

‘ _The mother board is my_ …,’ the text started to read, but Shaw warned her not to be flippant.

While Shaw was battling with the Machine’s good intentions, Janine was straightening out her dress and heading back to Zoe. Sameen looked up and realized what she was about to do.

“No, no, not like this,” Sameen said and ran to stop her.

Janine had her arms out and was about to embrace her lover. Zoe was reaching out to grab onto her girlfriend, in case the elevator dropped anymore. From that screeching sound, she worried they were hanging by a thread. The couple was about to embrace when suddenly; Shaw was in between them. She had literally popped up in the middle of them because Shaw was always quick on her feet in emergencies. What she had hoped to stop; she simply interrupted. Janine’s lips locked onto Shaw’s, as Zoe’s hands reached around her and grabbed ahold of her tightly.

Janine’s eyes were closed, but she immediately knew something was changed. Zoe’s lips felt different. Not bad different, just noticeably different. In fact, it felt pretty good. Janine reached up and grabbed her lover’s head to pull her in closer for that electric kiss. Seconds later, she opened her eyes because she thought Zoe was yelling at her. That’s when she realized – she had been kissing Shaw.

At the same time she released her boss; Zoe opened her eyes to see the fuller figured woman she was clutching was not her girlfriend.

“What is _wrong_ with you two?” Shaw asked, pulling herself out from between them.

“Well, that wasn’t what I expected,” Zoe summed up for everyone there.

“Yeah, well I didn’t expect… is that lip gloss?” Shaw asked, because there was a distinct taste of strawberry in her mouth now that she was trying to spit out.

Shaw was pulling at her shirt, pushing her hair back, and swiping her lip, all in an attempt to get the feeling of being mauled off her.

“I was trying to…,” Janine all but yelled at the woman whose kiss was still on her own lips. Her finger instinctively went to them as if to touch the kiss.

“I know… and no!” Shaw ordered.

“What are you two talking about?” Zoe asked, wondering why no one was rescuing them.

Shaw rolled her eyes, shook her head and chastised herself because she knew good deeds never go unpunished. This time though, she was pretty sure the punishment had been exacted before she even did the deed.

“This is not you,” she said sincerely to Janine. “This might seem right now…”

“Yeah, Shaw; we’re crashing in an elevator. _Now_ might be the perfect time,” Janine argued in a rare show of pushback.

“No,” Shaw countered and pulled the unsteady woman over to the corner to talk. “You’re sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows; not death trap. Sure, the rush of eminent danger is exhilarating; but it’s not for everyone and I think you’ll regret it.”

Janine listened carefully to her friend. “But I thought we were going to die..,” she explained.

“Yeah, I did, too, when the two of you pawed me,” Shaw informed her, “…but I have no such luck. I think we’re going to make it out of here alive.”

* * *

If Root hadn’t intervened, there might have been Phase 3.

“I know you’ve done extensive calculations to determine the best setting for Janine,” Root said, trying to get her point across to the AI, “… but you always miscalculate what Shaw will do.”

“ _Shaw is angry and stopped the proposal_ ,” the Machine conceded.

Root broke out into a huge smile. “That’s my girl,” she said because she knew Sameen would do right by their friend.

“ _I cannot seem to predict Shaw’s behavior_ ,” the Machine admitted.

“I know,” beamed Root. Just thinking about how Sameen would handle the situation gave her goosebumps.

* * *

“So, now what?” demanded Janine whose plan had been thwarted.

“What is going on?” Zoe finally asked.

Upstairs, Root was warning the Machine that she better release the angry Persian or she could not guarantee her safety.

Suddenly, the elevator door opened and all three occupants were surprised to find out they were only on the 16th floor. Shaw turned back angrily at the camera. “You’re doing simulations now?!” she yelled.

“Is she okay?” Zoe asked Janine.

“ _You_ ,” Shaw barked and pointed to Janine. “In my office.” Then, with what little tolerance for humanity that she had left, she turned to Zoe. “ _You_ – go home and wait for instructions.”

Zoe might have argued, but one look at her girlfriend’s pleading eyes and she nodded her okay. “Those two are a dangerous combination,” she said as the elevator took her safely to the lobby.

* * *

“I just want it to be perfect!” Janine said before they even got back to their cubicles.

“Yeah, and I want the Yankees to win the World Series,” Shaw balked. “Listen, you have to think about the way you want to do this. Do you even have a ring?”

Light blue eyes started to dart back and forth and Sameen swore she sore her bottom lip start to quiver. “No, no, no… no crying,” Shaw barked, but it was more of a plea.

“I don’t even have a ring!” Janine realized.

“Okay, okay; first things first,” Sameen said, flopping down in the chair.

“Would you…?” Janine asked softly.

Shaw clenched her eyes shut to think that this event just kept on going. “Yes, of course,” she said and Janine leaped at her to hug her. “Great, more hugging,” she said, but Janine didn’t let go.

Energized that Sameen was on her side; the woman started to talk about the kind of ring she wanted. She followed Shaw into her office; speaking without much punctuation. With renewed vigor, Janine started to put her plan together.

“This is going to work!” she said.

“I hope so,” Shaw said. “Now, I have to go see about a Machine.”

* * *

Shaw’s afternoon was very busy. First, she barged into Root’s office, rushing at the computer screen on the desk and yelling her threats. Her rant was loud and long and it wasn’t until she turned around, did she realize Root was, in fact, in a meeting. A group of tech support people all looked up from their iPad and stared at the intruder.

Root was taken with Shaw’s display of raw strength; threatening to dismantle the AI one wire at a time. Most of what she said didn’t make sense to the tech team; but it was hot to Root.

“Oh,” Shaw said, turning to see the group. “I… forgot my… password.”

Root was out of her seat and already at her wife’s ruffled feather side. “We’ll take care of that right away,” she assured her.

Shoving her hands in her pockets now, Sameen nodded her head. “Good, let me know… you know, when that’s done; because I’ll be ring shopping.”

Root clasped her hands to think Sameen was helping them out.

No one commented on Sameen’s state of dress as they smiled awkwardly and left Root’s office.

“You have…,” Root noticed as her thumb swiped some lip gloss smeared above her lip. “This isn’t yours,” she noted.

“Those _two_ mauled me!” Shaw complained. “Your crazy AI spawn tried to kill us in what I can only guess was an attempt to help Janine,” she put together.

“She told me,” Root said, pulling Shaw to the couch. “But…who touched you?” was the real question.

“Frick and Frack; Supergirl and Lena Luthor; the two of them!” Shaw ranted.

“They grabbed you and put lip gloss on you…?” Root questioned.

“Don’t be…do you _really_ think _either_ of those women could hold me? _And_ put lip gloss on me?” Shaw asked, insulted at the thought.

“Not my Sameen,” Root all but melted because Shaw was flexing her muscles in response to that crazy idea. Her hands ran up Shaw’s steel like arms.

“If she doesn’t propose soon, they’ll kill me, I swear,” Shaw bellowed.

“She just needs a little time to figure out the best way,” Root said again. “Who kissed you?”

“Janine!” Shaw said and shuddered at the reminder. “And Morgan’s hands were…,” she said, indicating all over the front of her body.

“Really?” Root said, unsure she liked that her wife had been sandwiched.

One look at those brown eyes and Shaw knew Root was fighting the feelings. “Hey, it’s her fault,” she said, jerking her head at the computer.

“Yes,” Root agreed, but her body was surging with wanting to make sure the universe understood one thing –

Shaw was hers.

Running her thumb across Shaw’s lip to remove the trace of anyone else only heightened things. Shaw’s mouth opened, and captured the digit.

“Oh, God,” Root said, pulling Sameen in to replace her finger with her tongue. She was going to kiss every last speck of that lip gloss off her wife.

Not to mention; replace Zoe’s mistaken touches with her own.

Root was on a mission and it was going to delight both of them.

* * *

Shaw was in a much better mood when she returned to help her assistant ring shop. They returned to Fusco’s friend’s shop.

“Really, you should just get these in stock,” Shaw advised him, “… I’m talking them all into getting married,” she whispered as Janine perused the rings.

The selection was made; it was simple, elegant and expensive. “I want her to be wowed!” Janine explained.

“Don’t worry,” Shaw said smiling at her enthusiastic romantic friend, “… she will be.

And just when Sameen thought her duties were done; her friend turned to her and said –

“Okay, Shaw. Expect us around eight.”

“For what?” Shaw asked, trying to say no.

“You said I was all rainbows and lollipops,” Janine reminded her.

“We’re fresh out of both,” Shaw balked.

“But you do have puppies,” Janine gushed; thrilled her plan was coming together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to valsdo and Mez64 for suggesting ways our resident romantic might just propose.


	123. Indecent Proposal

There wasn’t an emotional state Shaw was in that Root didn’t find endearing. But _complaining_ about helping people… while actually _helping_ them… was among her favorite. Sameen explained how she tried to assist the incurable romantic assistant as she ate the specially prepared filet mignon that Isabelle made that night.

“And… they’re coming back at eight o’clock tonight!” Shaw said. “What… what… if we’re busy?”

“Oh,” Root said, and her eyebrows rose. “Busy… doing… what… _exactly_?” she asked, as her finger traversed Sameen’s arm.

Shaw’s eyes immediately locked onto her wife’s hand as it inched closer and closer to her face. “Exactly!” she said, driving the point home.

“We’ll have plenty of time after,” Root assured her with a smile.

* * *

“So, where are we going?” Zoe asked into her phone. “We’re going to Root and Shaw’s? Are you sure they don’t mind? We’re not going for dinner?” she asked and stopped moving. “Visiting puppies,” she said and scrunched up her face. “Should I dress casual…? No, dress up,” she repeated. “Okay, I’ll be ready.”

Zoe shook her head and laughed. Whatever her girlfriend was up to, they were going to see the puppies first. She looked around the pristine apartment where specks of dust never appeared; nary a stray hair from a human; let alone a pet. But once Zoe saw the look on Janine’s face about them getting a puppy; she couldn’t say no.

The Fixer went to her closet, and chose a black and white sateen dress that hugged her in all the right places. Then, she chose a pair of black and white stilettos that complimented the dress perfectly. Figuring they’d go to dinner after the canine visit, Zoe packed a small purse with a credit card and essentials.

Janine arrived right on time. But instead of rushing in the hallway to greet her lover, she waited in the doorway, waving for Zoe to hurry. Zoe smiled when she saw Janine had dressed in black pants with a white blouse and black jacket.

“Don’t we complement each other perfectly,” Zoe noted as Janine leaned in to kiss her. “I didn’t know we had visitation rights yet,” Zoe joked as she locked her door and joined Janine.

“You look… wow,” Janine said, taking a minute to look at her girlfriend from head to toe.

“You like?” Zoe asked, putting her arms out and shifting her weight to one foot to show off the entire ensemble.

But Janine wasn’t looking at the clothes anymore. She was staring right up at Zoe now. “Yes, I do; very much,” she said softly.

* * *

“Does Shaw know we’re barging in on them like this?” Zoe asked as the couple rode up in the elevator to Root and Sameen’s apartment.

“Sort of,” Janine said, unable to lie. “But they’re expecting us.”

“Oh, boy,” Zoe said, thinking this wasn’t going to be the smoothest entrance they ever made. But, she found lately that she kept choosing to follow the woman who led them off the elevator.

Shaw’s mood was improved by two things – the delicious dinner and Root’s promise that nothing would take up all their time. Janine noticed the change when the couple greeted them.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Zoe said to Root who assured her they weren’t.

“You can visit them anytime,” Root assured her, but Sameen coughed loudly.

“You know, within reason,” Shaw clarified. “And like _not_ before coffee.”

“Never,” Zoe assured her.

“They’re waiting,” Root smiled and walked Zoe over to the stairs.

“Listen,” Shaw whispered to her friend. “I did as you asked…,” she said, peeking over to make sure Zoe wasn’t listening.

“Thanks, Shaw,” Janine said, squeezing her hand.

“And lighten up on that gloss stuff,” Shaw shared. “It’s… intense.”

“I changed it,” Janine assured her, smiling to think of what happened. “I’m sorry about… all that.”

“No, it’s fine; it wasn’t the _worst_ kiss I’ve had,” Shaw smiled at her friend. She chose those words to relieve her friend of guilt or embarrassment.

But this was Shaw… talking about how she had kissed her.

“Really?” Janine asked, thrilled that the kiss registered at all.

Sameen just stared back at the expression on Janine’s face. “Okay, let’s focus here. Are you ready?”

It took a second for the woman to get her mind back on the present. The distraction of her idol talking about her only lasted a minute. “I’m ready,” she said and turned to join her girlfriend. Shaw followed and when Janine stopped short; Shaw ran smack into her. “Shaw!” she whispered in a serious voice. “Suppose she says no?!”

Sameen was rubbing the tip of her nose from the collision. “Then, I’ll kill her,” she answered.

“You’re the best,” Janine said and hugged her friend.

“Yeah, save these hugs for fiancées and puppies,” Shaw balked, but Janine didn’t let go.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Shaw,” the woman said sincerely.

Root watched out of the corner of her eye as they waited at the foot of the staircase.

“Yeah, well…,” Shaw said, taken by the compliment. “Go…you know…”

Janine smiled at the tough woman who could be reduced by affectionate compliments. “Let’s visit them,” she said to Zoe, who was thanking the couple again for letting them in.

* * *

The puppies had just nursed and were getting used to their environment. Shadow and Bear were totally in on the set up because Shaw needed their help.

Zoe and Janine sat in chairs on the other side of the room so they wouldn’t interfere. Bear greeted them.

“I swear he thinks he can talk,” Zoe whispered to the woman who was certain he could.

“Look, they have tiny collars on,” Janine said as they watched. “Do you want a boy or a girl?” she asked.

“I don’t think we’ll have a choice,” Zoe smiled because of the many instructions they received.

The couple watched as Shadow approached one of the puppies and gently grabbed his neck. She picked him up and walked over to Zoe; slowly placing the puppy in the woman’s lap. Then, she turned and looked at Bear. The oohing and aahing over the little offspring convinced them they made the right choice.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Zoe said as she held the puppy.

Janine agreed, but she was busy watching her girlfriend talk to the puppy. She touched the woman’s soft wavy hair that hung over her shoulder and watched her light brown eyes light up as the puppy grabbed her finger.

“I hope he's ours,” Zoe whispered, unaware that her lover was melting in front of her.

“Maybe we can ask Shaw. What does his collar say?” Janine suggested.

“We can’t ask,” Zoe reminded her girlfriend of the rules.

Bear barked at Zoe because humans always seemed in need of help.

“He wants you to read his collar,” Janine interpreted.

Zoe laughed, but she put her finger under the dog’s chin to see what it read. “It says… _Will you marry me_. Will you… marry me?”

It took a second, but the Fixer finally realized what she just read. Shadow returned to take the puppy back and only then, did Zoe stand up to face her girlfriend. “Are you…?” she asked.

“Please sit,” Janine asked, orchestrating the event. When Zoe retook her seat, Janine knelt down in front of her.

“Zoe Morgan; from the minute I met you, I felt something inside. Something warm and loving and I knew I wanted it; I wanted you. I promise to face everything with you, be by your side, if you’ll let me. Will you marry me?” she asked, and produced the box with the ring in it.

Tears filled Zoe’s eyes as emotions stuck in her throat as she grabbed her pounding heart in her chest. The woman, who swore there was no room in her life for real romance, had been swept off her feet. She was supposed to live her life - taking lovers and leaving them. Now, the one person she needed as much as she did air; was kneeling in front of her.

“YES!” Zoe said and they both stood up and kissed. Then, Janine took the ring from the box and put it on her fiancée’s finger.

‘ _That’s actually a nice touch_ ,’ Shadow confided in Bear. Bear went to produce the bouquet of roses that he was supposed to bring over, but one of his more ornery offspring had gotten to it. This one had the habit of biting everything; including her siblings. She was always tearing at things and she was the first one to bark. Bear _definitely_ had a name in mind for her.

The women sat back down and cried and hugged. “How did you… why here?” Zoe asked.

“I was going to ask you on the elevator, when I thought we were going to die,” Janine explained.

“Is that why Shaw got between us?” Zoe laughed to think of how helpful she had been.

“Yes. I wanted it to be special,” Janine explained.

“Well, this certainly was,” Zoe said, admiring the beautiful ring.

“You should know one more thing,” Janine whispered. She leaned over near Zoe’s ear and told her.

Zoe looked at her and then scanned her body from head to toe. “Not even…?” she asked of the woman’s clothing underneath.

“Nothing,” Janine confirmed.

“We should go,” Zoe said, now equally turned on as she was infatuated.

The two women petted Shadow and Bear on their heads. ‘ _Did she mess my hair_?’ he asked.

* * *

Isabelle appeared with a silver tray of champagne filled flute glasses to toast the happy couple.

“This is so sweet!” Janine smiled and thanked them.

“We wish you all the very best,” Root toasted and they clinked their glasses.

They sipped their drinks and thanked Root and Shaw for everything.

“We really need to go,” Zoe smiled as she held Janine’s hand.

And then, because she knew what the answer was going to be; she asked Shaw; “How did you know I would say yes?”

“You’re many things, Morgan,” Shaw answered, smiling, “But a fool isn’t one of them.”

The couple took off, and they weren’t half downstairs before Zoe was slipping her hands inside Janine’s blouse and kissing her.

Shaw was happy for their friends and happier to see them go.

“You know, she’s going to ask you to be her maid of honor,” Root broke the news to her wife.

“I would rather walk down that aisle naked than wear a bridesmaid dress,” Shaw responded.

“In that case, I think we should start rehearsals right now,” Root said, pulling her wife upstairs to do just that.


	124. What's in a Name - 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry but I had to change the puppy that wore the proposal from 'she' to 'he' ... given the names I was working with. I hope you're not disappointed.

Eight Weeks Later:

  
In the short time that the group of friends were told they were going to become adoptive puppy parents, Janine had only _one_ other thing on her mind. Okay, _two_. And Shaw had done her best to dodge the dress shopping for her future matron-of-honor gig. But it was Zoe who put the whole thing in perspective for her fiancée when she asked: ‘ _Do we really want that gorgeous body of Shaw’s… in a dress_?’ Shaw was suit shopping that afternoon.

The _other_ big day arrived first and everyone gathered at the Penthouse to finally find out which puppy was theirs. By this time, the offspring were okay on their own and each personality was developing. There had been a great deal of discussion about who would be the right match. Bear was very protective and talked a blue streak to Root and Shaw about the matches.

“Are any of them as big a pain in the ass as you?” Shaw wanted to know when patience ran low.

One look over at the chubby pup that was gnarling on the dining room chair, then peeing to mark her territory in several places, caught Root’s attention. “Someone with a lot of patience is going to be best for her,” Root whispered to Bear. The father gave Root a wide-eyed look. No one really fit the bill. “I have an idea,” she assured him.

* * *

The friends arrived; many of them bringing gifts of thanks to Bear and Shadow. “I’ve been up with them and clean up after them!” Shaw balked. “And they get the gifts? Makes no sense,” she complained.

“You have our undying gratitude,” Joss teased her friend.

“I would have liked it in liquid form,” Shaw quipped back.

It took another thirty minutes for Shaw to tell everyone when the puppy classes were and how attendance was mandatory. And then she delivered the most important message she had: “And remember – no givebacks.”

The puppies scampered all over the place as Root got ready to announce the matches.

“We will start with the easiest match,” Root smiled. “She’s already attached to the woman who has helped nurse her strength back. _Trouble_ goes to Isabelle,” she said and the puppy was already by the woman’s feet.

The chef raised her hand. “If it’s okay with everyone,” she started, but was looking at Bear and Shadow, “… I’d like to rename her. If it’s okay.” She picked the littlest one up in her arms and announced: “I’ve been helping her these past few weeks, and truthfully, she hasn’t been a lick of trouble. But she does have a partiality for the smell of the vanilla I put in the cookies and finds her way into the kitchen whenever I make them. So, I’d like to call her – _Vanilla_.”

There was silence in the room at the rule breaker’s request. Shaw was just about to ask – where these cookies were, when Bear barked loudly, Shadow second it, and Michael screamed her affirmation.

“The yays have it,” Root smiled.

“The next guy is the _biggest_ of the litter. He’s smart, attentive, and has proven to be an excellent leader. He doesn’t bark much…,” Root continued.

Joss noticed that her boyfriend was sitting there practically curled up in a ball of excitement.

“ _Dakota_ has chosen… Reese and Carter,” she said.

“YES! YES! YES!” shouted the man who barely spoke above a whisper most times. He scooped the dog up in his arms and allowed him to lick his face.

“Oh, I am not kissing you after…,” Joss was saying, but John pushed Dakota in her face and she received the same welcome.

Iris was busy watching her boyfriend as the puppies were announced. He had spent the last weeks trying to convince himself - by trying to convince her - that he didn’t care which dog he got. “Any one of them would be fine,” he said one morning as he shaved, “… but that one with the marking under her eye. She’s a cutie.”

She was the only puppy who stood by her father through the process. Apparently, she was the quintessential _Daddy’s Little Pup_ and she knew it. Bear had been especially clear about what kind of parents he wanted for her.  
“This is _Princess_ ,” Root announced and on cue, the dog stepped forward regally. “She’s …,” Root started, but it was Joss who filled in the blank with… “High maintenance!” and was just about to tease her work partner that he better not get her when…  
“And she goes to Lionel and Iris,” Root announced.

“I knew it! Yes!” Fusco shouted and then ran to his friend and hugged Shaw.

“I didn’t do anything,” Shaw tried to explain, but he got the dog he wanted and believed she influenced the process. “Let go of me,” she tried. “Where are these cookies?”

Of all the matches, only Princess sat there waiting to be picked up. “She’s beautiful; isn’t she beautiful?” Fusco all but squealed to Iris who welcomed the new dog.

The matches were getting fewer and fewer and Root could tell that Gen was getting worried. In the meantime, the real trouble maker of the litter was busy bouncing around, biting her siblings, jumping up on the table to stick her tongue in a drink, and in general: making Michael laugh hysterically. Everyone in the matchup committee was worried about her.

The next pup was the one who Michael knew to be the most caring. He seemed to go out of his way to help his siblings. He already knew how to listen to commands. He was the calmest of the lot; who sat patiently waiting his turn.

“ _Harley_ is the pup who hardly needs any training,” Root announced because they were all impressed with how quickly he learned. “And he’ll make the perfect ring bearer at the wedding of Janine and Zoe!”

“Oh, my God,” Janine melted and felt to the floor to call Harley into her lap. On command, the pup curled up in her legs and sat down. “He’s beautiful!”

“And more importantly…,” Shaw said from experience, “… he’s very discreet.” More than once, Harley walked in on Shaw in the shower and he never once shared his findings with the others. “And for you _two_ ; that’s going to be key.”

Martine was totally absorbed in watching the dog that paid no attention to what was going on. This one was knocking things over and causing general chaos. She raced at her brothers and sisters. The only one she was very gentle around was Michael. When Azar appeared, apologizing for being late, the dog charged at her and bit the bow off her shoe. Yes, Martine decided; this one was going to be an absolute handful.

“The one who has been sniffing at all of you and crawling around carefully; is _Spider_. And he goes to…,” Root was announcing when Gen leaped up and yelled – “US!”

“Yes,” Root laughed because she knew the genius girl understood his name.

“He’s _Spider_ ; as in… ‘ _a program that visits Web sites and reads their pages and other information in order to create entries for a search engine index_!’ – the youth announced excitedly.

“Takes a nerd to know a nerd,” Shaw said.

“And for the final match; if we can ever catch her, _Trinity_ goes to Ayala and Martine,” Root announced, knowing fully well there was another person involved in that. “And Azar…of course.”

“Is that why she’s named Trinity? She has three caretakers?” Ayala asked and the dog was so busy chewing on Azar’s other shoe that she didn’t pay attention.

“Actually,” Root said excited about this name, “… she’s named after the badass in the _Matrix_ movies.”

“Trinity,” Azar called and the dog finally looked up at her.

The pup growled and barked and snarled at the woman. Bear looked at Root; his concern about his most ornery offspring palpable. All eyes were on Azar as she bent down and looked the pup in the eye.

“What is bothering you?” she asked and the dog stopped. There was something in the human’s deep voice that was pleasing to her ears. But as was her nature; she growled back in a futile attempt to frighten the woman. The dog barked and then howled, but the woman never budged. “You don’t say,” Azar answered. “Why don’t we talk about this some more?” the woman suggested. The puppy protested loudly that she didn’t want to talk about the fact that she never got any attention and this bothered her. Everyone watched as Azar, dressed impeccably as usual; stopped when she got to the kitchen door. “We’re going in here to talk, but you’re not to run around and make a mess,” she explained to the dog.  
Bear, Shadow and Root watched as the dog stopped all her fusing and followed the woman inside. Obediently.

“We’re keeping her,” Martine said to her girlfriend.

“Trinity?” Ayala asked to be sure.

“Your mother,” Martine laughed.

* * *

Several minutes later, after a long string of loud barks and howling; Azar emerged with Trinity in tow. When Azar stopped; so did the dog. One finger out to her, and the dog sat down – happy as could be.

“They just need to be heard,” Azar said to everyone.

“Works with people, too,” Iris winked at the sage mother.

“Cookies!” Isabelle announced and brought a tray out to the table. Gen carried out a second tray of small dog treats for all the new owners to take.

* * *

It took Azar only a second to recognize the similarity between her daughter, who shoved two cookies in her mouth at once and tried to talk; and the new puppy, who gobbled up a treat from Ayala and Martine at once and the barked – sending crumbs all over the place.

“That was amazing,” Root smiled at her mother-in-law.

“I’ve have some practice,” she smiled, looking over at Shaw. She reached out her arms to Michael, who squealed with delight to be held by her grandmother.

In a rare moment of not holding her tongue; the older woman shared: “She would do well with a sibling,” she whispered to Root, as she looked at Michael.

Root smiled with her whole face and leaned in; “I agree. And… we’re working on that,” she assured her mother-in-law.

“Are you feeling up to…?” she was asking when Root’s entire face lit up and her eyes locked onto Shaw.

“Sameen?” Azar asked, thrilled that her daughter might in fact be the next birth mother.

Root smiled, but never said a word.

She simply walked over to Shaw, who had devoured most of the cookies, and kissed her.


	125. In the Works

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry but I just love Shaw and Fusco bromance. lol

As promised, each morning, the puppy parents brought their dogs to the BEAR puppy care room. It was one of the largest areas in the building with access to an outside running arena. Of course, in the beginning, there were some separation issues.

“It’s okay, John,” Joss assured her boyfriend; holding his arm and patting his hand. “He’s going to be fine here. And you can come down and see him anytime you want.”

“What’s up with Tall, Dark, and Gloomy?” Fusco asked his work partner after John walked away solemnly.

“He’s really… _attached_ ,” Joss said and then noticed Princess was peeking out from under her work partner’s jacket. “What the…?”

“I thought I felt a sprinkle on the way over,” Fusco said defensively.

“Thank you, Harley,” Janine said when the dog pushed open the door and held it for her. “I think he could give the obedience classes,” she confided in her friends.

“How’s Zoe dealing with the dog hair?” Joss laughed.

“She asked the cleaning service to come in a couple of more times a week,” Janine confessed. “And I’m doing my best to keep her mind off of it,” she grinned and got the most devilish look on her face.

“Oooh…kay,” Joss said, getting her meaning right away.

“You better take that coat off of him. Here comes the warden,” Fusco said Janine when he saw Shaw coming.

“This is what I get for letting the chef get a dog,” Shaw complained as she walked Vanilla into the room. “What is that?” she asked when she saw the Harley in a coat.

“It’s _Burberry_ ,” Janine explained.

“It’s _ridiculous_ and his siblings are going to make fun of him,” Shaw announced.

“No, they won’t,” Janine countered and took the coat off the dog so he could join the others.

Ayala and Martine were next and Shaw stared at her sister who carried the dog in. “Now, you be a good _pumpkin_ ,” she said, kissing the dog before she put her down.

“Did you… just call her…?” Shaw asked horrified.

“It’s a _pet_ name, Shaw; get it?” Ayala laughed.

Martine warned her girlfriend that the dog had a perfectly good name. “I tried to tell her,” Martine shook her head.

“You’re really going to have trouble with this one, you know that, right?” Shaw said and wasn’t talking about the dog.

“I know,” Martine acknowledged, but there was something in her expression that told Shaw she was okay with that.

“Great; go to the annoying side,” Shaw balked at her friend who was in love.

Daan approached and told the parents what was on the agenda for the day. There were more activities planned than in most day care centers for children.  
Bear and Shadow walked in and the puppies barked and ran to them.

‘ _Now, how do we show Shaw our appreciation for this nice room_?’ Bear barked and the dogs all locked eyes on Sameen.

“What… are they doing?” Fusco asked when he noticed they practically stood at attention. One more bark from Bear and they charged the woman who wasn’t paying them any attention. She was too busy telling Fusco she needed to talk to him.

“You’re not getting any youngerrrrrrrr,” she said and fell over when the puppies all lovingly attacked. Having her down on their level was too enticing and the offspring jumped on her.

Joss called Dakota; Fusco called Princess; Janine called Harley. He was the only one who came over immediately, missing out on the fun. Finally, Janine ever so subtly jerked her head that it was okay for him to rejoin and he did. Shaw yelled for Daan who did his best, but it was Bear’s one bark that got them to release one of their favorite humans. Sameen looked right at the father who she absolutely swore – raised one eyebrow.

“Let me help you… ugh, Shaw; you’re slimy now,” Fusco complained. Joss shook her head and said she had to get to work.

“You know where I work, right Fusco?” she asked, but her partner was about to be detained.

“I’m not done with you,” Shaw said, getting up and wiping dog hair and dog kisses off her.

* * *

Janine said she would go get the coffee and donuts, since Lionel did not see fit to bring any.

“I swear; ever since you got that dog; your mind is somewhere else,” Sameen complained and meant – _not on my second breakfast._

“She’s a cutie,” Fusco said of his beloved pet.

“Okay, and your language,” Shaw balked.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Fusco got his friend back on track as they went to her office.

“Root and I have been talking…,” Shaw started and Fusco refused to sit down until Janine reappeared with the goods. He nodded and uttered some agreement, but truly didn’t hear a word until he took the lid off the coffee and opened the bag.  
Shaw dove in on cue.

“UokFudco?” she said and he finally relaxed. “DItizempotant.”

“Then, maybe say it in a language I can understand, Maybelline,” he pointed out.

The man had a point. Shaw scowled at him, but finished the next big bite before she started to talk.

“Look, what is holding you and the Doc up?” she asked bluntly.

“That’s kind of personal,” he pointed out, but she stared at him and shook her head as if to say – Yeah, that’s the point! “Doc is… Iris, I mean, is…,” he started to say and wasn’t sure this was a conversation he wanted to have there.

“Not getting any younger either. Do you want me to talk to her?” Shaw offered, as if it were a reasonable suggestion.

“GOD, NO!” Fusco yelled and jumped out of his seat. “I mean, no, thanks.”

“Look, Fusco; I don’t want to put any pressure on you…,” she started to explain.

“No, God forbid,” the detective interjected annoying his friend.

“And Root might have suggested… this is none of my business,” Shaw shared because that was exactly what happened. ‘ _These things can’t be rushed_ ,’ is what Root suggested to her overzealous wife. “Or maybe that’s what Root said about something else…,” she drifted off, because they had been talking about a lot of things lately.

“Yeah, that’s good!” he blurted out. “Let’s listen to Nutella on this; she’s very wise.”

And then proving that, not only did she know how to cross the line with her friends, Sameen dove head first by asking: “Is it the sex?” Now, this was a topic she never had any trouble discussing with the good detective; mostly because when the topic came up she had been drunk and coming off a one hour stand.

“You… did… not ask me…,” Fusco stuttered and Shaw looked at him quizzically. “Shaw! Some things are private!”

“So… it is… the sex?” Shaw asked, confused.

Fusco knew that if he didn’t answer her, his friend would never let it go. “Everything in… _that_ department … is fine. Better than fine! Okay?”

“Okay, you don’t have to get your panties in a bunch,” Shaw balked, thinking he was ungrateful that she was willing to talk about anything with him. She looked at how flushed his face was and grabbed a bottle of water to give to him. “It’s just… I always figured I’d be… like your best man,” Shaw said, starting to see how uncomfortable this was making him.

“And?” Lionel asked, drinking down the water to open his throat that wanted to close.

“And…,” Shaw said, looking around, but then decided she had another question. “Just tell me why you’re not popping the question and I promise, I won’t bring it up ever again.”

“You won’t bring it up…? Again?” Fusco asked, and his doubt was palpable.

“Marine honor,” Shaw put her hand up.

“What do I get if you do?” Fusco asked, folding his arms.

Shaw was insulted at his lack of faith. “Okay, I go bowling…”

“Every Thursday,” he specified.

“Fine, every Thursday,” Shaw said because she had no doubt she could keep this promise.

Fusco moved forward in his chair and leaned a little closer. “I just want… everything to… be … perfect.” He raised an eyebrow at his friend because that seemed to make perfect sense to him.

Shaw looked back in horror. Hadn’t she heard this same excuse weeks before from her assistant?

“Perfect?!” she bellowed. “Not you, too,” she threw up her hands.

“What?” he asked, unaware of her history with this thought process.

“Well, the puppy proposal idea has already been done, so maybe just a nice dinner; a weekend getaway, anything…,” she begged.

“What does any of this have to do with you?” he asked.

“I explained that. Now, I know… do it on the _couch_! That’s perfect cause she’s a therapist and all,” Shaw tried.

“I told you why; now you have to keep you end of the bargain,” Fusco announced and stood up and walked out.

He was no sooner to Janine’s door when Shaw called out: “Wait!” she said and ran to the outer office. “I always found her very receptive when she was in the bathroom!” she blurted out and then realized that didn’t sound good.

Fusco just stared at her. “See you Thursday, Maybelline,” he said, victoriously. “That didn’t take as long as I thought,” he said as he left.

“Dammit!” Shaw said, annoyed that she backed right into that. She grabbed her phone and went back to her office.

And googled: _Pregnancy and bowling_.

She and Root were _really_ trying and she didn’t want anything to spoil her chances.


	126. Timing is Everything

That night, after the puppies and people were settled in their homes, Root and Shaw were upstairs in the bedroom. Root was feeling nothing short of thrilling delight as her ministrations caused her wife’s fists to clench the sheets tightly as she screamed out her deity’s name over and over and over. Root was barely winded, but Shaw lay there with perspiration on her forehead and labored breathing. It seemed the designated apparatus needed to guarantee safe passage of their combined genetic material was quite the orgasmic inducer.

Shaw lay there; arms spread out, exhausted from the heightened experience that rendered her deliciously satisfied. Root slide up alongside her and turned on her side. “If I were a betting woman, I’d say that time did it,” she laughed softly.

“I… think… that… shot… to… my head,” Shaw said with long pauses between words.

Root leaned over and kissed the lips that seconds before Shaw had bit to still the loud screams. “You are going to be wonderful at this,” she assured her wife.

“Because I’m good at everything I do?” Shaw laughed.

_God, how Root loved her wife’s strong ego._ “Yes,” she responded truthfully.

Shaw was still trying to catch her breath when it dawned on her how composed her wife was after that love making that left her thrashing in ecstasy. “How… are… you … not… ?”

“Out of breath?” Root beamed. “You know how _good_ I am…,” she teased as her finger traced Sameen’s forearm, “... with _machines_.”

Just that admission of truth was enough to make Root dissolve into laughter and blush. She put her head down on Sameen’s chest and felt the up and down motion of her breathing as it slowed into a normal breath. She played with a strand of Shaw’s long hair.

“What if I went blonde?” Root asked and felt her wife stop breathing.

“What if I got bangs?” Shaw countered.

Root pushed herself up and looked down at the face of the woman she simply adored. “No,” she said and put her head back down.

“You don’t think I’d look good? Because I think I would look good,” Shaw balked.

“No, it’s not that,” Root confessed. “I just don’t want you to change a thing. Unless you really want to.”

Shaw laughed softly. “If this goes as planned, I think I’ll be going through _enough_ changes.”

“Yes,” Root said and slid her hand down Shaw’s abdomen and slowly rubbed it. “You’re going to look wonderful.”

“My boobs will probably be huge,” Shaw predicted and forgot to whom she was sharing that with.

“I know!” Root said, touching two of her favorite body parts.

“You’re going to exhaust me,” Sameen laughed and hugged her wife into her.

“We all have our strengths, Sameen,” Root teased.

It wasn’t the first time they had tried to do this. So far, they seemed to have missed the mark. But Root told Sameen they needed to be patient and that, in time, it would happen.

* * *

The next morning, Root partook in one of her favorite pastimes: watching her wife eat. God, how that woman enjoyed breakfast!

“ItuldFusco,” she got out and Root slid the orange juice closer so she’d take a sip. “That he better get on the ball proposing.”

“You didn’t!” Isabella asked aghast as she bent down to feed _Vanilla_ and her parents.  

“I thought…,” Root said, thinking they had covered how this wasn’t really any of their business.

“I explained to him – I’m practically done with therapy,” Shaw said and Root gave her a quizzical look, trying to make the connection.

When Shaw couldn’t wait anymore, she benevolently gave her wife the answer: “She’ll be bored?”

“Oh,” Root smiled and looked at the confused chef. “Yes.”

As usual, Shaw looked at the two women like they were crazy. “I can’t…,” she started, but didn’t want to say more. “He’s got to think of our schedule, too.”

“Like you wouldn’t be there for his wedding?” Isabelle scoffed.

“I could be busy,” Shaw tried and no one; not even Bear nor Shadow believed her.

* * *

The elevator door opened and into the kitchen rushed _Trinity_ , followed by her trio of caretakers. She ran by her parents and went straight for the food bowls and started eating.

“We just fed her!” Ayala complained.

“Why… are you here?” Shaw asked, but her sister and Martine sat down at the counter top.

“She missed you,” Martine tried and Ayala said that wasn’t true.

“Mommy missed Michael,” Ayala said and that was true.

“Let me get her,” Azar pleaded when Root said she was just waking up upstairs.

“She’s an intense grandmother,” Shaw noted of her mother, as she slapped her sister’s hand when she went to take something off her plate.

“Keeps her busy,” Ayala said and thanked Isabelle for the breakfast.

“Where is everyone?” Fusco called out and came through the kitchen door with _Princess_. The room fell silent when everyone saw that he was pulling what appeared to be a miniature car with Princess sitting in it. Apparently, Fusco and she were taking the name quite seriously. “Look who’s here!” he said, as she waited for him to lift her out before she walked over to her siblings.

“What are you doing here?” Shaw asked.

“ _Princess_ wanted to see her siblings,” he said and sat down as Isabelle poured him coffee. “And it’s good exercise walking her,” he said and patted his stomach. “I’ll have some of that sausage, if you have extra.”

“We don’t, Shaw lied and added; “You know she came with batteries, right? She can walk?” she asked and Bear barked at her not to make fun of any of his offspring. “What?” Shaw said defensively. “She’ll get fat!”

“Not with _that_ one stealing all the food,” Isabelle said and Shaw was the only one in the room who didn’t see the connection between _Trinity_ and herself.

“We were just talking about you,” Shaw said, but her eyes were on the pancakes that were being passed to her sister. “Do we have more of them?”

Isabelle assured her that she did. Just then, the chef looked down to notice Trinity had eaten everything in the bowl as her siblings watched. The tiniest burp escaped her mouth, just as someone at the table did the same thing.

“Shaw!” Ayala chastised her sister.

“Knock, knock,” came the deep voice of the man who arrived with his girlfriend and _Dakota_. The largest of the litter was getting bigger and bigger. He walked slowly into the room and it was easy to tell out he outweighed his siblings.

“Look at those paws!” Martine noted and John puffed out his chest as if he had something to do with that.

“Do not feed their egos, please,” Joss begged because she swore the two had similar struts.

“ _Trinity_ is still the boss,” Ayala laughed when her dog growled at her bigger brother to back off.

“Is there a sign on the door?” Shaw asked Root because it seemed everyone was gathering in their kitchen.

Just as Root smiled at her wife’s inquiry; Janine and Zoe came through the door. “Thank you, _Harley_ ,” Janine said as he stood there; holding the door opened for them.

“Shaw, it’s like you gave us the Cary Grant of dogs,” Zoe remarked and thanked Isabelle for the coffee. “God, do I need this,” the woman said and sipped the hot beverage. She looked over at Sameen and smiled, giving her a wink.

“I hope you at least let that poor dog watch television while you two are…,” Shaw said, making a face.

“They’re not supposed to watch _that much_ television, Shaw,” Janine teased her boss.

Isabelle was getting more cups of coffee and plates for the incoming company.

“We’re here!” Gen announced and came in with _Spider_ and Harry and Grace.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Grace said when she saw the crowd.

“Of course you are...,” Shaw blurted out, but Root gently squeezed her knee and Shaw quickly added: “are…not!”

_Spider_ joined his siblings and went to eat some food, but Trinity pushed him back.

“Yarullynudtotranher,” Shaw said, and pulled the plate of pancakes closer to her; explaining they really needed to train that dog.

“You think?” Ayala teased her oblivious sister. “Mommy’s working on her. It’s like she won’t listen to anyone but Mommy.”

“That’s… interesting,” Root smiled to think of the effect the woman had.

Sameen didn’t care for the twinkle in her wife’s eyes when she said that. “There is no… you’re not suggesting…,” Shaw protested, her finger waving back and forth between herself and the dog.

As soon as she said that, Azar reappeared with her granddaughter in her arms. “What are you trying to say, my love?” the grandmother asked her babbling granddaughter. Michael smiled, but when she saw her two mothers; she was ready to give her new word a try.

“Mama,” she called out and put her arms out to them.

Root’s eyes filled up immediately; Shaw stopped eating. (Take that in for a second). The entire room fell silent as they collectively witnessed Michael first spoken word.

“Did she…?” Shaw choked back the rest of her question.

“Yes, she did!” Root said and tears flowed.

Isabelle let her tears flow freely and handed the box of tissues to Fusco who had to turn around and blow his nose.

One look at her mothers’ faces and Michael sensed how delighted they were. Bear had been right! Grownups _love_ when you talk to them.

“Mama,” Michael said and put her mouth on Root’s wet cheek. Then, she reached out to Shaw, who was a little less comfortable with crying in front of everyone.

“My big girl,” Shaw said, but her voice cracked and that make Janine dissolve into weeping.

“Come here,” Zoe said, putting her coffee down and pulling her fiancée into her arms.

“It’s just _so_ beautiful,” she whispered and Zoe agreed.

Michael leaned in to kiss Shaw and then wanted to go back to her grandmother. Entertaining adults was exhausting!

‘ _Tell me about it,_ ’ Bear barked at Michael after reading her tired expression correctly.

* * *

Upstairs in the library, the quiet hum of pages scrolling on the computer filled the room.  With each new effort to conceive the second child, the Machine did her own calculations based on personal information she gathered about Sameen and her condition. 

A simple algorithm produced rows of numbers.

The Machine may _not_ be able to predict Shaw’s behavior with any accuracy; but she certainly came up with the likelihood that conditions were perfect to become pregnant.

The numbers slowed down and the cursor blinked as the Machine drew her conclusion.

Statue: Conditions were perfect.

Chance of successful gestation: 99.98 percent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: valsdo has an uncanny knack for picking out GIFS that go with these chapters. She posted one that was of a car-like vehicle with the dog sitting in it and she suggested this would be Fusco. I had to agree and used her idea here.


	127. The Way it Is

The entourage of the newly joined puppies and parents finally left the Penthouse after breakfast, a late lunch, and an impromptu dinner that Root invited them to stay for. It wasn’t just for the puppies’ sake that she insisted they stay; she loved how this group of people adored her daughter – and wife.

Sameen collapsed on the couch later that night; exhausted from her day of uninvited company. “The whole point of the puppy daycare was so they could leave the dogs there and the dogs could all be together. Nowhere in the manual did it authorize visiting us,” she pointed out.

“Ah, but it was a very good day. Everyone was there to witness Michael’s first word,” Root pointed out.

“That’s _another_ thing,” it reminded Sameen. “Are our lives going to be an open book for all of those people to read?”

Root snuggled up to her disgruntled wife and started to stroke her arm. The touch alone was enough to distract Shaw a bit. “Think of it this way; it saved you the trouble of having to repeat it to each one if they hadn’t been here.”

“Maybe,” Shaw said, calmer now that Root was next to her. “But I would have liked to tell each of them,” she countered.

“I’m not sure how to tell you this, but …. people… _like_ you, Sam; it’s just the way it is,” Root said and because she called her by her shortest name, Sameen knew there was no sense in arguing the point.

“Okay,” Shaw conceded and pushed back against Root.

There was silence for a while as Root closed her eyes and Shaw noted the improved performance of her favorite baseball team.

“Did that woman ever contact you?” Shaw asked.

“Mara Kint? Not yet,” Root said.

Sameen thought that was odd. “Maybe she’s too busy,” she said when her favorite player, Aaron Judge, got up to bat and hit a grand slam; the ultimate hit in baseball; increasing the score by four to win!

“She wants to study us; maybe she’s decided that’s too hard,” Root mused. “After all, if I were locked in a dream state with you, I’d never want to come out unless you were waiting here for me.”

“Good point,” Shaw agreed.

“I bet I know something you would enjoy _more_ than this game,” Root cooed to her wife.

“There’s steak left over?” Shaw teased and hit the remote to shut the baseball game off.

“Are you really going to suggest that you would rather eat steak than eat…,” and Root couldn’t even get the rest of her words out because her face simply exploded into a smile.

Shaw loved that her wife could take anything and give it a sexual connotation, but she loved how Root blushed at her own jokes even more.

“You are freaking adorable, you know that?” Shaw said, staring at her wife.

“Is that a good thing?” Root asked, her shoulder rising up and falling.

“To be honest,” Shaw began her thought process, “… I used to hate adorable. Like those women who knew how to dress perfectly, and who could smile on cue, and were annoyingly happy and friendly …,” she continued as she shuddered at the thought.

“Yes?” Root said, frowning at where this was going.

“But you’re not like that, Root. I mean, you are, but …first, you’re perfect from the inside out. You’re smart, you’re kind, and you’re wickedly protective. You’re a wonderful mother and wife,” Shaw listed as she straddled Root’s lap and looked into her eyes.

“And most importantly; you’re perfect for me.” She leaned down and kissed the waiting lips in a kiss that made Root lightheaded.

“I’m… all that?” Root asked, almost breathless, when the tender kiss broke.

“You’re so much more, Root,” Shaw said seriously.

“I thought you found me annoying when we met,” Root teased.

“Oh, I did! I mean; you tazed me, drugged me, and tied me up,” Shaw reminded her.

“Oh, the _good_ old days,” Root mused.

“These days are good, too,” Shaw reminded her. “Now, your love does all those things to me.”

“My love ties you up? The great Sameen Shaw? Tied up by love?” Root teased as she grabbed Shaw’s hands behind her.

Sameen smiled as she offered no resistance. “What can I say, Root; I’m a changed woman.”

Root looked up into those dark eyes and, as it is with the truly romantic types; she fell in love all over again.

Sameen was right; they both were changed. They weren’t really different people; they just brought out the best in each other.

The tech genius, who had been more comfortable around machines than people… met her match in the woman who had been content behind the impenetrable walls she’d built.

Neither of those versions existed anymore.

* * *

The next morning, Sameen awoke feeling different. She wasn’t sure how to describe it, until it finally dawned on her. She wasn’t hungry.

“Root?” she said, sitting up in bed. “Get the stick!”

It wasn’t just her instinctual sense that was on alert; the former doctor also knew to check.

“Really?” Root said, getting up and following Sameen into the bathroom.

Shaw was opening and closing drawers, and pulling things out, looking for the digital pregnancy test wand. “I put them right here,” she said, as she pulled things out, allowing them to spill on the floor.

“Sweetie?” Root said, gently putting her hand on Shaw’s shoulder and holding the box in the other.

“Okay! Okay,” Shaw said, standing erect and taking the box. “You take this and I’ll be right out.”

“You know how this works, right? Don’t you want to ….?” Root asked, thinking her wife needed the pregnancy strip with her.

“I’ll show you,” she said and told Root she’d be right out.

Seconds later, the former doctor appeared, carrying a cup. “We’ll do it together,” she said, and ripped opened the box. Taking Root’s hand in hers, she placed the wand tip into the liquid in the cup as they waited for the digital readout.

“Ready?” Shaw asked, looking at her lover and not at the wand.

“Ready,” Root said, taking a deep breath.

Shaw pulled the wand out and they both looked at the digital result:

“ _Pregnant_ ” – it read.

They both stood absolutely still as they took that in. Then, Root screamed and grabbed Sameen into a tight hug. “OHMYGOD!” she squealed with delight. “You’re … you’re…”

“Going to get huge boobs,” was the first thought that popped in Shaw’s head.

“Oh, Sameen,” Root said, kissing her wife’s lips and pulling her in. “This is wonderful.”

“Yeah, it is pretty neat,” Shaw said, using a vocabulary she rarely used.

Root stood back and looked at her wife. She swore she could already see a difference in her; a glow that would actually take weeks to develop.

“I love you, Sameen Shaw-Groves,” Root said sincerely.

“I love you, too,” Shaw smiled.

* * *

The couple decided not to mention the news to anyone until Sameen was well into her third month, but her initial lack of appetite was too much of a red flag. She held them off as long as could, but by the tenth week, she couldn’t take the speculation anymore.

First, they decided to tell Michael she was going to be a big sister. The fact that Sameen went on a long winded soliloquy about how it really was good to be the older sibling because they were usually the brightest and most accomplished caused Michael to look over at Root. “She’s not going to understand this, is she?” Sameen finally asked, but her daughter leaned over, and kissed Sameen’s stomach.

“I think she understands us better than we think,” Root smiled at her daughter.

Azar was equally as pleased and hugged her daughter tightly. She asked if Sameen was feeling okay, and she assured her she was. “I’m not really hungry,” she said and Azar stared at her.

“You know this will worry _everyone_ ,” she said, and as usual; Azar was right.

Isabelle had held her tongue, but was worried sick that something was wrong with Sameen. When they broke the happy news, the woman all but lifted Sameen in her arms and hugged her tightly.

“You’re hurting me,” Shaw said, squished in the woman’s ample bosom.

“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” Isabelle said and went on to say she would check to see what the best diet was and prepare whatever foods Shaw needed.

* * *

The next people Shaw decided to tell; were the two that had been acting the strangest.

Fusco was stunned when Shaw refused their morning routine donuts; but Janine was beside herself when the owner from Parks Deli came to inform her that Sameen had not been there in days.

Janine confided in Zoe that she was worried that Shaw was truly ill; and wasn’t telling her because of the upcoming nuptials. Zoe suggested she ask Sameen if she was okay, but the assistant said she couldn’t do that.

Fusco broke the golden rule in his household of asking his girlfriend if she had any information about her favorite patient. Iris explained that she could not share any information – even if she had any. She suggested that he approach his friend about this, but he explained he couldn’t – he was too afraid that it was something bad.

So, the same morning that Root and Shaw decided it might be time to tell their friends turned out to be the same day the two worried friend joined forces.

Shaw didn’t stand a chance.

* * *

Janine couldn’t take it anymore and Fusco was losing sleep; the two confided in each other how worried they were. The joined task force of anxious friends was about to confront Shaw.

Sameen walked into the office that morning as the two friends jumped to their feet when she entered.

“Okay, Shaw;” Fusco said and crossed his arms over his stocky chest. “We want to know what’s going on.”

“Yeah,” Janine chimed in; crossing her arms like her counterpart.

Apparently, neither felt confident on their own to speak up; but together, they were unstoppable.

“Okay, Batman and Robin,” Shaw said and then felt it necessary to add: “She’s Batman, by the way.”

“Funny, Maybelline, but we’re serious. We’re not leaving until we get some answers,” Fusco said in his best detective voice.

Shaw took one look at the two bobbing heads and decided she didn’t have it in her to scare either one of them. “Let’s go,” she said and they followed her inside.

“Okay,” she said and sat down. The two exchanged glances as if acknowledging she was no match for their united forces. “I want you two to sit down and listen carefully,” she said and they both fell to their seats. “This goes no further than this room,” Shaw said in a whisper and the two crossed their hearts. “I’m……………….. pregnant!” she said, bursting out in a big smile and sitting back.

She was expecting the two to jump her in an effort to hug her first, but neither of them moved. In fact, Shaw moved forward again to see if they were both breathing.

“You’re… _what_?” Fusco asked and Janine asked the same question a second later. “With… how?” he asked.

“We’ve been over this, Fusco,” Shaw said, taken aback with their response.

“Does Root know?” Janine asked and then realized what she asked. “Of course, Root knows.”

“What is up with you two?” Shaw asked, stunned by their responses.

“You’re…,” Fusco said again, because his heart was about to burst through his chest. “Oh my God, you’re pregnant!” He jumped up and pulled Shaw up to hug her and then apologized profusely and pushed her back into the seat. “She’s pregnant!” he shouted to Janine.

“OHMYGOD! This is wonderful. Oh, I’m so relieved,” she said and started to cry. “I was so afraid…”

“What?” Shaw said, looking at them.

“We thought it was something…,” Fusco said, but couldn’t complete the thought.

“I’m not even showing!” Shaw pointed out.

“The not eating,” Fusco said, finally breathing. “We were… worried.”

In that moment, Sameen could see how concerned her friends had been about her. It reminded her that Root had suggested people would be apprehensive about the change. “Oh, right,” she said. “Well, don’t worry; it’s back!”  
“It is?” Fusco asked, because he hadn’t brought anything. “I’ll go… get something,” he said, but he was mostly turning in circles. “What should I get?”

“Donuts?” Shaw said and the man was out the door.

“And don’t say anything…,” Shaw was yelling when she heard him shouting that people should get out of his way because he had to get donuts for the expectant mother.

“Why do I bother?” Shaw asked.

“Okay, okay,” Janine said and was pacing back and forth, looking around the office. “We need a new chair; pillows, a little fridge for fruit…,” she made a mental list.

“Please don’t do anything…,” Shaw tried, but it was too late. The other half of the Dynamic Duo was off and ordering.

“I don’t want to have this baby in prison!” Shaw threatened, but no one was listening. “So, please don’t make me kill either one of you.” She laughed at her own joke, but a very stern looking Janine was back in the doorway.

“Don’t do that!” she said with great authority.

“But, I’m incredibly funny,” Shaw protested.

“They say the baby can sense things; so no threats or talking about… you know,” Janine said, and made a stabbing motion with her right hand.

“I was thinking more…,” Shaw said, putting her two hands together to indicate strangling.

“No!” Janine said and looked around. “We need plants for more oxygen production.”

“If I were ever alone in here, there would be plenty of oxygen for me,” Shaw pointed out, but her assistant didn’t hear her.

Janine had fallen to her knees to inspect the carpet to make sure it was smooth. She raced to her phone to call maintenance. “We have a trip factor on the 16th floor,” she told them with great urgency. “Get someone up here, stat!”

“Stat?” Shaw repeated as her assistant left to get things in order.

* * *

Minutes later, Sameen went out into the hallway, just as Iris and Zoe Morgan were walking to their respective destinations.

“Listen, you two, you gotta rein them in,” Shaw said in desperation. The two women exchanged glances, but neither spoke. “I told them just now… that I’m pregnant.”

 _Now_ , they understood.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Iris said and hugged her favorite client.

“Congratulations,” Zoe said, hugging her next. “And good luck… with them.”

Without skipping a beat; Iris nodded her head in agreement. She knew exactly what Shaw was asking; and what Morgan was telling her.

“Good luck?” Shaw repeated. “No, you two have to… do… something.”

“Sorry, Shaw; we’d like to help, but…,” Zoe explained.

“I’m not sure I’m qualified to handle that; are you?” Iris asked Zoe, making it up as she went along.

“No! Besides, I wouldn’t want to mess up the good thing you got going with those two, Shaw,” Zoe backed off.

“No, no, no…,” Shaw said to her friends, “… there is nothing to mess up; those two are going to be insane over this!”

“She has a point,” Iris said, folding her hands and looking at Zoe.

Shaw nodded her head at her therapist. “See?” she said to the Fixer. “Besides, aren’t you … the Fixer?”

“First, I never take a job that I know I can’t do something about; and second, I still think it’s too big a task for either of us,” Zoe summed up.

“Actually, I have to agree with her on that,” Iris changed her mind and smiled.

“Not funny, you two. You know, after those two are done obsessing over here; they’re coming home to you two,” Shaw threated.

“Yes, probably exhausted though,” Iris pointed out.

“Good point, Doc,” Zoe smiled.

Of all the couples that Shaw wasn’t sure were a good combination; these two suddenly shot to the top of the list.

“Still… no clients?” Shaw asked her favorite therapist.

“I should… go check,” Iris said, smiling at her favorite one.

“I am going to check on…,” Zoe said, pointing to her fiancée’s’ office.

“She’s off shopping for God knows what,” Shaw said and just then, the woman appeared.

“Did you tell her?” Janine asked quietly.

“Yes,” Sameen said… and decided only one person could make her feel better.

Janine stood next to Zoe as they watched Sameen mutter all the way to the elevator.

“So, we have to … you know…,” she said to Zoe.

“Get married before she gives birth?” the older woman guessed correctly.

“Yes!” Janine said.

“Of course,” Zoe smiled, because she knew better than to fight the force of her wife’s affection for the other woman.

* * *

Shaw marched into her wife’s office and plopped down on the couch. “Well, they know!” she said and threw up her hands.

“Janine and…,” was all Root got out.

“Fusco! The two of them are going to be nuts!” Shaw said, as Root came to her side.

“I’ll see if I can’t ask them to go easy,” Root said, taking her wife’s hands.

“Ha!” Sameen blurted out. “Maybe you could fire them?”

“I might be able to pull a few strings on getting the good detective fired; but I have absolutely no influence on your assistant,” Root said truthfully.

Root sat down and pulled her wife to put her head in her lap. “How are you feeling?” she asked, putting her hand on her stomach.

“Hungry,” Shaw said.

“That’s a good sign,” Root noted.

“They’re going to drive me nuts, you know,” Shaw repeated.

“They love you,” Root said, stroking Sameen’s furrowed brow.

“Yeah, well, could they do it at a distance?” she suggested.

“Do you want me to move your office up here?” Root suggested.

Sameen looked up at her wife as she gave that some thought.

“You could have your own office; with a lock,” Root continued.

“Could I have laser lights that would shoot if someone came in?” Shaw asked.

“Yes,” Root agreed.

As tempting as it was – and it was very tempting; Sameen did what Root already knew she would do. She said no.

“There’s no stopping them, Root; we might as well accept it,” Shaw conceded.

“That’s my girl,” Root said, bending down and kissing her wife with an upside down kiss.

Just then, Bear pushed open Root’s door and entered, pulling the carriage with Michael in it.

“Special delivery, I see,” Root said as she thanked him for bringing their daughter to them. “Here she is,” Root said and sat her down on the couch with Sameen.

Michael put her hand on Sameen’s abdomen and broke out in a big grin.

“She’s got your brains,” Shaw said of her daughter’s perceptiveness.

Michael let out a long yell.

“And you temperament,” Root gushed.

The baby continued to babble on and on, even though Bear explained adult bipeds were slow to pick up on things.

Sameen’s hand slowly slid over her abdomen as her thoughts carried her away. “Root?” she called her wife; but in a quiet voice. “I want to name her after my father.”

Root was surprised that Sameen was actually considering giving their child a name; after the way Michael’s name was chosen.

“You don’t want to let her…?” she was asking, when Sameen got up from the couch.

“Her middle name,” Shaw clarified. “She can pick her first name, of course.”

“Of course,” Root said because she was amazed by how insistent Sameen had been about Michael.

“I… I… spent such a long time being angry at him and at my mother; for leaving and all. It took me a long time to be able to look back and remember the good things; the songs she sang to me; the games I went to with my father. They… taught me a lot,” Shaw said as she smiled.

“Well, I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Root agreed.

And then, Root remembered what Azar gave her many months before. The woman; the wisest one Root knew; had assured her she’d know when to give the small remembrance to her daughter.

“Sweetie?” Root said, getting up and retrieving the object. “Your mother gave this to me – to give to you when the time was right,” she said and sat back down next to Sameen. “She said that she bought this for your father to give to you…,” she explained as she put the small gold cross and chain in Sameen’s hand.

Shaw was stunned into silence. She took the gold object as her eyes filled with water. “This was my…,” she said, recognizing it as the one she wore on her First Holy Communion. “My father…,” she tried to explain and wiped a tear away.

“She sent it to your father to give to you,” Root explained.

“But… but I threw this away,” Shaw said because she remembered doing it and never telling a soul after he died.

“She was never really far away,” Root said of Azar’s presence. “She must have found it; or _someone_ found it for her.”

Root’s latter statement was correct; the Machine located the discarded object for Azar.

Michael put her hand out to the shiny object and squealed; as if sensing its importance.

“They’re always with us,” Root said, taking Sameen’s hand. “Just like we will be with ours.”

“Yes,” Shaw said, and took the cross her mother gave her father to give to her – and put it on Michael.

Michael reached up and kissed Sameen’s cheek and then squirmed to get in her lap.

“We’ll always be a part of you,” Shaw promised her young daughter.

Root watched her wife hug her daughter and smiled.

“Want to see mommy do it?” Shaw asked Michael who screamed that she did. “Do it, Root.”

Root gave a sideward glance, but complied. Then, as if revering up her entire body for the act; her shoulder moved; her head turned; and she put all her energy into closing one eye.

Michael clapped and Sameen broke out in a wide grin.

“I’m working on it,” Root said of the natural gesture that most people mastered.

Shaw leaned in and kissed her as Michael uttered her second word that day. “NO!” she said; surprising her parents.

“I agree,” Shaw said to her daughter.

“On what?” Root asked.

Shaw summed up their feelings this way:

“There are _some_ things, Root; that we don’t _ever_ want to change.”

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N; I wish the length of time it took to post this chapter was due to my fervent work on finishing this installment. Truth be told, I detest the parting. Yes, there will be another installment ... but even I don't know when. I hope it's soon because I truly miss the daily/weekly connection with those of you who are gracious enough to join me in this adventure. So, thank you for your readership AND your tolerance of my bending the rules of time, space, aging, and other rules of relativity. You are most kind. 
> 
> As many of you know, I not only love hearing your ideas, but steal... I mean... borrow with permission... many of them. So, I hope you will feel as good about this work as I do. It has been my utmost pleasure to have been invited into your lives. An honor I never take for granted.  
> With sincerest gratitude ... AGAIN,  
> Cheers,  
> Manhattanite


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